Little Battles
by Marin2
Summary: AU after 'Grave'. Tara's dead. Spike has a soul. They're not about to let that stop them. (Chapter 6 now up)
1. Crashing Down From Heaven

Title: Little Battles  
  
Author: Imran Inayat  
  
Email: narm00@ntlworld.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: 'Course.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, most anyone who has a legal claim own them, not me.  
  
Distribution: ff.net.  
  
Summary: AU after 'Grave'. Tara's dead. Spike's got a soul. They're not about to let that stop them...  
  
---  
  
Spike:  
  
Okay, stop me if you've heard this one.  
  
Trot down to Africa, meet big, dark and lurky in the cave, ask for my soul back.  
  
Now, he ain't too happy 'bout it, being all demony himself, but he can't stop me taking the challenges.  
  
Finally gonna give the bitch what she deserves, I tell him.  
  
He gets a dark little chuckle at that one. She deserves far more than that, he tells me.  
  
Yeah, like I'm surprised.  
  
Are you willing to give her what she deserves? Give her friends what they deserve?  
  
Hey, I'm not signing up for the vengeance demon schtick, I tell him. That's demon girl's thing, not mine.  
  
No, he says. Again with that damn chuckle. No, I would not ask that of /you/...  
  
Are you willing to give them what they deserve?  
  
What *do* they deserve?  
  
Oh, they know... They know...  
  
Okay, I tell him. I'm not playing this game. I may be steamed at the Slayer, but I'm not gonna play minion on this. While Harris and Red probably deserve it... uh-uh on demon girl. /She/ deserved a lot better than she got.  
  
So did Niblet.  
  
He sighs.  
  
Okay, I say 'he'. He could have been an 'it', for all I cared. Or a 'she'.  
  
You misunderstand, he says. If you wanted vengeance, you could have called upon D'Hoffryn. Are you willing to give the Slayer what she truly deserves?  
  
Yeah, I say. Hey, what have I got to lose?  
  
I get through the trials - and a lot of fun *those* were, lemme tell you.  
  
Anyway, I get through them. Make it to the end.  
  
'You have endured the required trials' he says.  
  
Yeah, like I hadn't noticed.  
  
'Bloody right I have.' I tell him. 'So give me what I want. Make me what I was... so Buffy can get what she deserves.'  
  
And it's right about then it hits me.  
  
Oh God. Not William. Not turnin' into soddin' William the Bloody Awful Poet.  
  
Yeah, great move, Spike. Now you'll be moonin' over the Slayer and wonderin' what the hell rhymes with "effulgent".  
  
'Very well', he says.  
  
And before I get to bring my well-reasoned argument up, he's reaching out and laying his hand on my chest. 'Your soul... and so much more... is given to you.'  
  
The last thing I remember, I'm screaming my head off-  
  
-christohchristit*hurts*-  
  
-and everything, mercifully, goes black.  
  
---  
  
The next thing I remember, I'm in the darkness, staring at this body lying on the ground. And I'm thinking, okay, who delivered take-out?  
  
Okay, I wasn't thinkin' too clearly. Like that's somethin' new.  
  
I reach down -  
  
- and my hand goes straight through it.  
  
Bastard.  
  
*BASTARD.*  
  
Soddin' bastard's gone and turned me into a ghost. I get ready to give him a piece of my mind-  
  
Only he isn't there.  
  
Then it hits me.  
  
Then it /all/ hits me.  
  
You thought Round One was bad? We're gonna make sure you remember Round Two.  
  
And, Jesus Christ, I /do/.  
  
I remember everything I did, *everything*, over the last hundred and forty-odd years of my life.  
  
Every. Last. Thing.  
  
You know how they say your life passes through your mind when you drown? This was like that. That feelin' of someone assessin' everythin' I'd done, markin' it off on some cosmic tally scale.  
  
Markin' me off.  
  
And it was...  
  
And I knew, in exact and precise detail, just how much of a monster I was.  
  
Exactly how much.  
  
This time, the blackness was a relief.  
  
---  
  
Tara:  
  
Um.  
  
Okay. Spike and I felt I should take over at this point.  
  
Spike felt he should, well... set things up for me.  
  
Um.  
  
Right.  
  
Well.  
  
Well.  
  
Okay, before I get any further, you'll have to forgive me. I... wasn't exactly in the best shape at this point.  
  
But Spike...  
  
Spike was...  
  
It's okay, pet.  
  
Catatonic.  
  
It sounds so simple, now.  
  
But it wasn't. It really wasn't.  
  
In that one word...  
  
...I can't say it. I just can't say it.  
  
It's too much.  
  
Okay.  
  
Okay.  
  
Begin at the beginning.  
  
Or the end.  
  
---  
  
'Your shirt...'  
  
I'm looking at Willow's shirt and there's red all over-  
  
-there's blood all over-  
  
-there's blood all over Willow's shirt, and she's never going to get it clean, never going to wash it out, she loved that shirt-  
  
Somewhere far away, there's a dull *thump*  
  
Somewhere inside my mind, I realise it's me, that it's me collapsing on the floor, but all I can think of is how much Willow loved that shirt, and now she's never going to get it clean-  
  
---  
  
Then there's darkness.  
  
And I see a light in the distance. A light at the end.  
  
I move towards it.  
  
I'm...  
  
I'm dying. Or dead.  
  
And somehow, it's not the shock it should be.  
  
I'm...  
  
I'm never going to see Dawnie grow up. I'm never going to write that book I wanted. Never going to work at a pet rescue centre. Never going to have a baby. Never going to see Mr Giles, or Buffy, or any of the others, ever again.  
  
I'm never going to be able to tell Willow how much I love her.  
  
Not...  
  
Not until it's her time.  
  
And there's a part of me that wants to stay behind, to tell her it's okay, baby, it's going to be okay, look, it's okay. I'm going to be with Mama again, to see Joyce again...  
  
...Go on with your life. Find someone. Live. Not for me, but for you.  
  
Live. Be Willow.  
  
Please, baby?  
  
I...  
  
I have to go.  
  
I'll be waiting.  
  
And I'm going on, into the light.  
  
Into-  
  
---  
  
There was...  
  
Buffy always found it difficult to talk about it, what it'd been like when she was there.  
  
But... she understood.  
  
It wasn't...  
  
It's hard to describe, to explain, in...  
  
...in language.  
  
Okay.  
  
Here goes.  
  
There was...  
  
There was someone waiting for me, just outside the light.  
  
It wasn't Mama. Or Joyce. Or anyone I'd known.  
  
Hello, he said bashfully.  
  
He was...  
  
He was sweet and shy and a bit awkward, like he wasn't quite comfortable there.  
  
And I had the strangest feeling, like I'd met him before, but I'd forgotten his name.  
  
Which was strange...  
  
He was such a sweet man, and I wouldn't have forgotten someone like that...  
  
Hello, I said. Are you Saint Peter? I was, you know, expecting someone...  
  
No, he said. No, no-one like that.  
  
You're not my... my soulmate, are you? I asked. Which would have been disconcerting, because, well, gay, and my soulmate turns out to be a man.  
  
Except, in a strange way, I'm not sure it would have mattered.  
  
Milady, he said, perhaps, in another life, perhaps...  
  
Had I the words, I would have told you your beauty illuminated the world, the very stars, themselves, that your grace illuminated corners of my heart I had not even known. I would have striven over every word, striven to write something worthy of you.  
  
I'm not... I began.  
  
You do yourself an injustice, he said. You deserve all that and more. More than I could ever hope to give.  
  
Forgive me.  
  
Why? I asked. Why can't we go inside?  
  
We have been summoned, he said. We have been asked to go back, to return.  
  
Return? I said. But...  
  
I know, he said. Still, it is a call neither of us can refuse.  
  
Forgive me.  
  
Why?  
  
This is my doing, he said. It is my own actions that call us back.  
  
Who... who are you?  
  
William, he said. William-  
  
The light winked out.  
  
---  
  
Warmth. Warmth beneath me.  
  
Like... like lying on the beach on a warm day...  
  
Sand underneath...  
  
Underneath me.  
  
A body.  
  
A body.  
  
Again.  
  
I closed my eyes, listened for the heartbeat inside me, listened for the sound of my own breath.  
  
Darkness. Silence.  
  
Then... I don't know how long... I realised I couldn't hear my breath, or my heart.  
  
Dead...? Is that how I've come back? Dead?  
  
No! God, no-  
  
I stopped.  
  
Silence.  
  
Only the ground beneath me, and the air around me, and...  
  
...and where was I?  
  
What was I?  
  
My hands were resting against the ground.  
  
Sand. Sand over stone.  
  
No sound. Nothing.  
  
I opened my mouth.  
  
Sore... so sore... when did I last have a drink?  
  
No... when did this body last have a drink?  
  
Hurt...  
  
Hungry. So hungry. I just wanted to find the nearest thing I could and eat it...  
  
I started to stand up, almost afraid of knocking my head on something.  
  
Hurt...  
  
...pain shooting with every move...  
  
How long...  
  
How long had I been here?  
  
I blinked, my eyes adapting to the dark.  
  
Darkness, stone, all round.  
  
A... a cave.  
  
I blinked.  
  
There was...  
  
There was a figure, outlined against the wall.  
  
A figure...  
  
...I could see right through.  
  
I /was/ seeing right through.  
  
Staring at me.  
  
'H-hello?' I tried.  
  
My voice sounded harsh in my ears.  
  
Staring-  
  
It fell into place.  
  
'S-spike?'  
  
Spike? Ghost of Spike?  
  
What happened to him?  
  
What happened to me?  
  
'Spike? Can you hear me?'  
  
My throat *hurt* so much...  
  
'...so many...'  
  
I barely caught it.  
  
'...So many...' he repeated again. 'So many... so... the blood won't get off, will it? Never come off. Oceans of blood...'  
  
He looked me straight in the eyes.  
  
'Forgive me.'  
  
'Spike?'  
  
'Oceans, oceans... oh, so pretty, Dru, so pretty... but she won't like this, no, not at all.' His eyes blazed. 'Screw her.'  
  
'Spike? What happened?'  
  
'Screw her, screw you, screw me. Get right into her, get right inside her, get /inside.../'  
  
I closed my eyes. 'Fiat... Fiat Lux!'  
  
A tinkerbell light popped into existence over my hand.  
  
Honestly, I hadn't thought whether or not it'd work - only that I wanted light.  
  
But it did, and it lifted.  
  
In the light, I could see the figure /was/ Spike. Was /really/ Spike.  
  
In the light, I could see the clothes he was wearing.  
  
The clothes I was wearing.  
  
I realised he was staring at the light.  
  
'So beautiful...' he whispered. 'A beauty effulgent...'  
  
I looked at him.  
  
Then down at myself.  
  
At him.  
  
Myself.  
  
You'd have thought the voice would have tipped me off.  
  
Harsh and rusty... and about an octave deeper than I was used to.  
  
It didn't.  
  
No, it was the dangly thing between my legs that did it.  
  
A man? A /dead/ man?  
  
A dead man walking.  
  
A dead man-  
  
A dead man.  
  
Him. Spike.  
  
Me. Spike.  
  
He focused on me.  
  
'You. You.  
  
'GET OUT OF THERE!'  
  
He went for - went *through* - me.  
  
I looked down at myself again.  
  
And collapsed.  
  
---  
  
After that...  
  
Screaming.  
  
Screaming I didn't belong there, I was dead and *gone*-  
  
Screaming I belonged with Willow.  
  
I belonged in the ground.  
  
Begging.  
  
Begging them to tell Will. To tell her to throw the shirt away.  
  
Screaming about Glory, trying to tell them she'd brain-sucked me again.  
  
I didn't /belong/, couldn't they /see/? I didn't /belong/ here!  
  
I wanted...  
  
I wanted to go home.  
  
I wanted to go /back/.  
  
I...  
  
I wanted to /die/.  
  
I was /dead/.  
  
I was cold and dead and gone, and why weren't they listening?  
  
/Why weren't they listening to me?!/  
  
Didn't they see? Didn't they understand?  
  
/I wasn't me./  
  
I wasn't...  
  
This wasn't me, I tried to tell them. This wasn't me, this was Spike.  
  
It wasn't me, not this cold dead body.  
  
I was in there, but it wasn't me.  
  
I was dead and gone. I didn't belong here.  
  
I didn't belong-  
  
---  
  
When I woke up, it was night-time, and someone had thoughtfully tied me to the bed.  
  
Spike - ghost of Spike - leaned over me, regarding me coldly.  
  
'Finally. Sleeping Beauty wakes up. Bloody Hell, girl, you could give Dru a run for her money.'  
  
'S-Spike?' I croaked out.  
  
'Who'd you think it was, Casper the bloody Friendly Ghost?'  
  
'Is... is it you...?'  
  
'Yeah. Yeah, it's me.'  
  
'But...'  
  
'Yeah, I know.  
  
'We'll talk 'bout it later.'  
  
I want to talk about it *now*, I tried to protest.  
  
But I blacked out again.  
  
---  
  
When I woke up again, there was this little old woman sitting by the bed, a bowl in her hands.  
  
They must have propped me up at some point, so I could drink, but I was still tied to the bed.  
  
She brought the bowl to my mouth, tipped it to my lips.  
  
I tried sipping at it.  
  
She tipped it again.  
  
It spilled into me.  
  
It was warm and tangy and tasty, like Mama's chicken soup. Warm and satisfying and meaty.  
  
When the bowl'd nearly been emptied, she removed it.  
  
And I didn't want her to do that, I wanted her to keep it close, because I was so /thirsty/, so /thirsty/, and I hadn't drunk anything in so long-  
  
She regarded me for a long moment.  
  
Then she got up and left.  
  
'Well, that was nice of them.' GhostSpike said, taking her position by the bed. 'Me, I'd've gone for something more filling, but I'm guessin' they don't wanna risk it just yet.'  
  
'S-spike?' I managed to say. My voice... well, not so croaky now, but still sore, still hoarse.  
  
'Yeah.' he said. 'Question is, who do you think /you/ are?'  
  
'T-Tara.' I managed to say. 'Tara... Tara Maclay.'  
  
His expression darkened, but his tone was still conversational. 'Good. Thought we'd lost you a couple of times back there - and you have no idea how happy that would have made me, back then.'  
  
'S-same... same here.' I said. I tried to smile, but my mouth just wasn't up to it.  
  
I lay back against the bed, feeling the blankets underneath.  
  
'Spike?'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'What... what's going on? Where... where are we? What... what happened?'  
  
Spike gave me that assessing look of his. 'Guess we've got the time.' He sat forward. 'Easiest question first - we're in Uganda, small village in the back end of beyond. Cave not too far off home to a shaman, does stuff for whoever passes his tests.'  
  
I remembered, sort of. Was that the cave... the cave I'd woken up in?  
  
'As for what happened...' He snorted.  
  
'...You wanted a soul.' I whispered.  
  
'No.' he corrected me. 'Wanted /my/ soul. My old soul.' He snorted again.  
  
'So... so how...?' I tried to ask him.  
  
'Didn't think it through, did I?' he said. 'Said they deserved a lot more, and was I willing to give it to them? And like a bloody idiot, I said "yeah".'  
  
My mind was still trying to wrap itself round this, but Spike continued.  
  
'Turns out, what "a lot more" means is me getting busted out of my own body, while /you/ move in, complete with soul.'  
  
'What...' I got out. 'What about your...?'  
  
His face darkened.  
  
'What do /you/ think? I'm still bloody here, aren't I?!' he snarled, leaning forward again, jabbing a finger at me. 'What /I/ wanna know is what the soddin' hell /you're/ doin' here! Thought you'd got back with witchgirl, doin' the whole loveydovey thing! The last thing I expect is to find *you've* moved into my body!'  
  
He sat back, crossed his legs. 'And if you so much as get it scratched, you are gonna /suffer/.'  
  
I couldn't help it.  
  
I started laughing.  
  
Painful and sore and hoarse, but laughter.  
  
I just couldn't help it.  
  
He looked so ticked off, sitting there, growling at me.  
  
Like an angry terrier, and that was /so/ wrong of me, but I couldn't help it.  
  
He looked so /funny/.  
  
The scowl on his face only intensified, and I just couldn't stop.  
  
Finally, when my voice was worn out again, he asked me again, the anger gone from him.  
  
'What happened?'  
  
'I...' I tried to remember. 'There was... red... blood... there was blood on Willow's shirt... and then... then everything went... went numb, dark...'  
  
My voice died.  
  
'Blood.' I could barely hear what I was saying. 'Blood. She... she was... she was feeding me blood, wasn't she?'  
  
'Cow's blood.' Spike said. 'Like I said, they didn't want to risk you gettin' a taste anythin' more.'  
  
'I'm a... I'm a vampire, aren't I?'  
  
'Comes with the body, love.' For a moment, it almost seemed like his eyes softened, and then he was serious Spike again. 'What happened to Red? You remember?'  
  
'She was... I don't know... I remember... I remember someone saying something... someone saying something, a voice in the distance... I don't know.' I met his gaze again. 'Something... Something happened... happened to Willow, Spike...'  
  
'Right.' Spike said. 'First thing we do...' He hesitated, as if he were reaching a difficult decision in his mind. 'First thing we do, you can walk, we're going back.'  
  
'To... To Sunnydale?' I said.  
  
'I want /answers/, love.' Spike said. 'Sunnyhell's the only place we can get them.'  
  
'Spike...?' I said.  
  
'Yeah, love?'  
  
'I was...' I swallowed. 'I was... I was bad, back there... wasn't I? That's...that's why they tied... tied me down...?'  
  
'Weren't the only one.' Spike said. 'Thing 'bout being a ghost... you gotta lotta time to think.'  
  
There was so much behind that, so much...  
  
But I didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to tell.  
  
'Spike?'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'Will...' My voice was thick. 'Will you stay with me?'  
  
'I'm not going anywhere, love.' he said. 'We're together. Together till the end of the world.'  
  
'Thank... Thank you.'  
  
Then I drifted off into sleep.  
  
--- 


	2. Personal Hells

Spike:  
  
Took a couple of days before they decided it was safe enough to untie Tink.  
  
Fortunately, some of 'em spoke English. Helps, when you get these demons passin' through.  
  
Told her what to say. Didn't want anyone catchin' on, not till we were ready to talk 'bout it.  
  
Which wasn't gonna be for a good century yet, at current rate.  
  
Got through it okay, tho' I think the little old witch guessed. Caught her giving me these /looks/ whenever she was in the room.  
  
Lucky she didn't try an exorcism. Christ knows what that would've done to us.  
  
I was a /ghost/. Couldn't touch anything, couldn't move anything, couldn't even get a soddin' fag.  
  
And can I just get this on record? Sunlight is bloody overrated as one of the pleasures of life.  
  
I speak from personal experience.  
  
And to make it worse, I was anchored to my /own bloody body./  
  
Someone's idea of a joke, no doubt.  
  
I swear, if I ever meet the PTB, I'm gonna rip them a new one somewhere.  
  
Kept her on cow's blood. Didn't want her gettin' a taste of anythin' stronger.  
  
'Sides, didn't know if the chip still worked. It'd been tailored to /me/... so was it still gonna work with /her/ inside?  
  
And Tink was /starting off/ with a soul. Didn't /want/ to touch human blood.  
  
Watcher-boy would bloody love this. What happens if you start a vampire /off/ with a soul? And, gosh, look, here we've got the perfect subject.  
  
Couple of days longer before they decided to get her walking. We hadn't been walkin' in a long time.  
  
And it was...  
  
...God, it was /painful/ seein' her take her first few steps. For me /and/ her.  
  
Knew how to walk, 'course, but it takes on a whole new level of difficulty when a) you haven't been walking in God knows how long, and b) you're walkin' in a whole new body.  
  
A was the biggest problem. Surprisin'. Maybe not. I mean, the body already /knew/ how to walk. It was... adjustin' to it again, that was the problem.  
  
Got the hang of it real quick, over the next few days.  
  
For a bunch of guys without physical trainers, they were real used to this.  
  
I wondered how many others had come to see Lurky. How many of 'em had been unlucky enough to succeed.  
  
One night, while all a'this was goin' on, she sat down and asked me somethin'.  
  
'How did you know it was me?'  
  
'Not many people /I/ know babbling 'bout someone called Willow, screamin' for her to come for her Tara.' I told her. 'That, and you definitely mentioned Dawnie and that bitch Glory at some point. With /our/ lives, it wasn't likely to be a coincidence.'  
  
'Oh.' She sat there in silence for a while.  
  
What she said next came so far out of left-field, I wouldn't have seen it comin' in a million years.  
  
Considerin' what we'd been through so far, that was nothin' short of astoundin'.  
  
'Spike... Was your name... your human name, I mean... was it William?'  
  
My jaw dropped. Or it would, if I still had one.  
  
'Yeah. Yeah, it was.' I finally told her. 'Buffy tell you?'  
  
Tink shook her - my - head. 'No... no, I heard it... somewhere else, I think.' Then she looked back up at me. 'What was your last name?'  
  
Well. Been a long time since I heard that one.  
  
'Okay.' I told her. 'There are some things in this life I am /never/ tellin' you, 'kay? And /that/ comes at the top of the list.'  
  
'Oh, you'll break, soon enough.' she said with a twinkle in her - my - eye. 'After all, we've got centuries to go yet...'  
  
Have I mentioned how much I hate bein' a ghost?  
  
Thought so.  
  
Anyway, it was soon after that they decided we were well enough to be let out on our own.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
---  
  
Tara:  
  
Thermoses are a heaven send.  
  
The villagers gave me one before I left, found a carrier bag to put it in.  
  
I ask a butcher if he'll fill it up for me. It's for my pet.  
  
Only, only it's not that easy.  
  
Check that.  
  
It's Hell.  
  
This is Hell.  
  
This is Hell, and /why can't they see-/  
  
Oh God.  
  
So much, there's just so /much/-  
  
I can see it. I can /see/ it, as he cuts into the flesh. See the hot, red, steaming blood....  
  
(the blood on Willow's shirt...)  
  
I can smell the warm, thick scent from here.  
  
So /much/...  
  
So much so much so much...  
  
(so much blood...)  
  
And I'm hungry, I'm so /hungry/... like, like there's a black pit where my stomach should be...  
  
I want to eat it all, swallow it down and ask for more, I want it all, I want it /now/...  
  
I want to sink my teeth into the warm flesh, to lap up the blood as it spills from the wound, to rip and tear, let it free, let it gush into my mouth...  
  
It smells like everything. Like every meal Mama ever made, might ever /have/ made, rolled into one sweet liquid. Like it's the answer to everything.  
  
I want to sink my teeth into his flesh-  
  
His?!  
  
Godgodgod....  
  
God.  
  
What... what...  
  
What am I *thinking*?  
  
This isn't....  
  
This isn't...  
  
I...  
  
I don't...  
  
I don't...  
  
I don't...  
  
'TARA!'  
  
I blink my eyes open. Somewhere in the last few minutes, I forgot to blink.  
  
And I'm so /hungry/...  
  
Spike's watching me. 'Looks like it finally kicked in. You were staring at his neck. And not in a "I've just gone straight" way, either.'  
  
'Oh God...' I whisper. 'Ohgodohgodohgod...'  
  
'Talk to me, Tara. Talk to me about...' He flounders, 'God, /I/ don't know. Words. Words are safe.'  
  
'Hungry...' I whisper again. 'So hungry...'  
  
'Okay, words /not/ safe. Nothing safe.' Spike says hurriedly. 'Okay. Okay. If you're good, if you're good, I know this place where they do this onion thing in the shape of a flower.'  
  
I stare at him. That was /so/ ridiculous-  
  
The butcher hands me my flask.  
  
'Th-thank you...' I manage to get out.  
  
I don't hear what he says - I scuttle out of there, scuttle away-  
  
Oh God the people all the people-  
  
People - alive - blood -  
  
'TARA!'  
  
I'm not breathing. I should be gasping for breath, why am I not breathing-  
  
'FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, WOMAN, SNAP OUT OF IT!!'  
  
I focus on Spike. 'Keep talking. Keep talking. I, I can't keep it down, I can't stop-'  
  
''Kay.' Spike says. 'Little Miss Slayer thinks she's Queen of the World, like it's all her world we're livin' in, and she's got the sheer tightassed gall to feel /bad/ about it, and sometimes I just want to shake the Niblet so /hard/ 'cause there can't be anything like brains in that empty little skull of hers, and let's not get talking 'bout Harris, could there /be/ a more useless excuse for a human being walkin' the face of the Earth, then we've got the King of Tweed, who's moronic enough to think you lot can be let out without adult supervision, and Red, now /there's/-'  
  
'Stop.' I can barely recognise my - Spike's - voice. 'Stop. Stop.'  
  
'I find buffalo wings help.' Spike says.  
  
I blink. 'Huh?'  
  
'Well, actually they don't, but they still taste good.'  
  
'Is... oh God.' I can't think about this, can't think about going another day like this, another hour, another /minute/-  
  
'Tara.' And it's serious Spike, and I've never ever been more grateful to see him in my life. 'Tara. Look at me. /Look at me, dammit!/'  
  
'Can't...' I gasp. 'Can't...'  
  
'Dammit, you stupid bint!' Spike rages. 'Don't go quittin' on me *now!*'  
  
'I can't...'  
  
'Wuss. Should have stayed brainsucked. Would've been a *big* improvement.'  
  
'Spike-' I stop.  
  
I can feel my mouth.  
  
Fangs.  
  
Oh God, I've got fangs.  
  
My hand's trembling.  
  
The other's clutching the bag tight.  
  
Focus. Focus.  
  
Plastic bag. Plastic bag. Plastic bag. Plastic bag.  
  
Shakily, I pull myself upright.  
  
And I'm still hungry, but hungry like I was that first night, I can block that, block that...  
  
Spike's watching. Just... watching.  
  
'I'm...' I screw my eyes shut. 'Give me a minute. I... I can... I'm keeping it down... keeping it down.'  
  
'First real blood, huh?' he asks.  
  
I nod, mutely.  
  
'It won't get easier.' Spike says. 'It doesn't. Just think yourself lucky you never got a taste of the /real/ stuff. The body did, and /it/ remembers...'  
  
'Is that...' I gasp again. 'Is that what it was like with... with the chip?'  
  
'Uh-uh.' Spike says. 'You crashed straight into bloodlust. Hit /hard/. Me, withdrawal was a bastard, but I'd got the bloodlust in control. Knew when to let it out and when not. Hurt big time, but not nearly so much as the freakin' chip. You, you got bloodlust *and* withdrawal in one handy package.'  
  
'Lucky... lucky me...' I manage to say.  
  
'Yeah. Right lucky, the pair of us.' Spike says sarcastically. 'Right lucky. Damaged goods, that's what we are. Nothin' but damaged goods.'  
  
'Does... does it have to be that way?'  
  
'You tell me, pet.' he says, looking out, looking away from me. 'You tell me.'  
  
I clutch my bag tight. 'Let's... let's get moving.'  
  
---  
  
Oh dear Lord, I think I'm still in hysterics.  
  
The good kind, this time.  
  
'I am /not/ taking up smoking.' I tell him.  
  
Spike's pouting. Spike's actually pouting. He'd scowl at me for this, but he looks so adorably cute when he's pouting. 'Oh, come on. It's not even like I'm asking you to steal it or anything. Slap a few notes down in front of him, and bingo, sweet smell of nicotine.'  
  
I give him my Someone's Being A Bad Kitty look. 'Spike, I'm not smoking.'  
  
'What's /your/ problem?' he demands. 'Not like /we're/ gonna get cancer, is it?'  
  
'Secondary inhalation.' I point out.  
  
'Oh, come on.' he says. 'Can't tell me you never smoked a day in your life.'  
  
'I did.' I say. 'Donnie dared me to try one, and I spent the next week throwing up. No.'  
  
'We're /dead/. It's not gonna do anything to /us/.'  
  
I stop. Fortunately, it's late night in the market, and no-one's going to pay attention to us in the shadows. 'Spike... are you fidgeting?'  
  
'No! 'Course not!'  
  
'You're fidgeting. You want a cigarette.'  
  
'Well, /duh/.' he says. 'You know how long it's been since I had one?'  
  
'Spike... you're a /ghost./'  
  
'Don't mean I can't /watch/!' he protests. 'Go on. Just one. Just inhale, once, that's all.'  
  
'*No*, Spike.'  
  
'Pack of lights?'  
  
'*No.*' I look him in the eye. 'Spike, if you don't stop this right *now*, I'm going to take up smoking /menthol/ cigarettes.'  
  
His eyes go wide. 'You wouldn't /dare/. Do you know how poncey those look?! Make you look like one of those artsy-fartsy goth ponces!'  
  
'Try me.' I intensify the Bad Kitty to my Bad Willow look.  
  
'Soddin' Tinkerbell.' he mutters. 'Bloke can't even have a proper smoke with her 'round...'  
  
'Tinkerbell?' I say.  
  
'Bite me.' he informs me politely.  
  
'You're so cute when you do that.' I tease him. 'Come on then... Peter.'  
  
'Peter?' He raises his ghostly eyebrow.  
  
'Peter Pan and Tinkerbell...?' I try. 'The boy who never grew up?'  
  
'Har har.' he says. 'Next time, you might wanna try something with a little more name recognition.'  
  
'Okay, Al. What does Ziggy say I've leaped in to do this time?'  
  
'Right, Sam.' he says, perfectly poker-faced. 'Ziggy says there's a 99% chance you're here to get your mate Spike a pack of cigarettes.'  
  
'What's the 1%?'  
  
'That you get Spike two packs of cigarettes.'  
  
I can't help it, I start smiling again.  
  
'Oh boy.'  
  
I still don't get the cigarettes, though.  
  
Spike complains all the way to the hold.  
  
---  
  
Spike:  
  
The plane's hold's cold, dark, and airtight, but 'course, that's not an issue for us.  
  
So of course the first thing Tink does is say 'Fiat Lux.'  
  
And this dinky little Tinkerbell light pops in over her hand.  
  
Her eyes bug.  
  
So do mine.  
  
'Okay, when did you start doing /that/?' I ask.  
  
She blinks at me. 'How, how do you mean?'  
  
'That.' I nod at the ball of light. 'Last I checked, I didn't do the magic thing.'  
  
'I... I don't know.' she admits. 'It's... it's kind of a reflex when the light goes out. Something to keep me company in the dark. Kind of a nightlight.'  
  
'Huh.' I say. 'So why'd no-one ever teach /me/ that trick?'  
  
Then I stop to think 'bout it.  
  
Y'see, one thing I'm sure of - I never met a vamp who could do somethin' like /that/. Just *poof*, and it happens.  
  
Dru had her visions, but /she/ was insane.  
  
Tink blinks. 'I... I don't know... Did you ever try?'  
  
Yeah, yeah, 'Tink'. It was the second-best thing I could come up with. 'Tink'. That little glowing ball of light in the darkness.  
  
Seemed to be her signature spell, so when I /did/ meet her... 'Tink'.  
  
Of course, /now/ it's all so bloody ironic...  
  
Either a little of Dru's sight rubbed off on me, or the PTB continue with their plan to turn Spike's life into a cosmic joke.  
  
I'm goin' with option two.  
  
Anyway, back to our excitin' conversation.  
  
'Uh-uh.' I say. 'Never my type of thing.'  
  
'Oh,' she says in a little voice.  
  
She's quiet for a while, as the engines rumble in the background.  
  
'You know...' she says finally, 'I, I never heard of a vampire witch...'  
  
'Yeah?' I say. 'Me neither. Bet Watcher-boy's probably got somethin' on it in the books.'  
  
'You think so?'  
  
'Or maybe it's 'cause it's a witch's soul in there.' I shrug again. '/I/ don't know. We're breakin' enough rules as it is. Hell, I don't even know if there /are/ rules for this kinda thing. We're into whole new territory here. This's /insane/.'  
  
'I know...' she says softly. 'I know. Spike...'  
  
'Yeah?' I'm on the alert.  
  
'Why did you want a soul?'  
  
Tread carefully here. ''Cause I wanted to give Buffy what she deserved.'  
  
'Why?' She's searching my face. 'I mean, why now? What happened?'  
  
The Slayer happened. She always does.  
  
'Was it about the... the Anya thing?'  
  
'Red told you.' Statement.  
  
She nods. 'Uh-huh.'  
  
'Sorta. Kinda.' I look down. 'I... wanted something to make the pain stop. We /both/ wanted something to make it stop. But... but... it didn't work.  
  
'And afterwards, I thought... I'd crashed. I'd finally got as low as I could get.' My chuckle's hollow. 'Guess the joke's on me. 'Cause it wasn't. Not by a long shot.'  
  
'And... what happened next...' she says softly, 'that was why you went to get your soul?'  
  
'Yeah.' I say.  
  
'Oh.' she says.  
  
'Yeah. Guess we're not the number one person they wanna see ever again.' Hollow chuckle again. 'Probably rank somewhere below Glory.'  
  
'But you still decided to go.'  
  
'Well, yeah.' I say. 'Answers. We need answers, and the only way we're gonna get 'em is bulling straight in. 'Sides, you'd've wangled us into finding out what happened to Red sometime. Best to do it while they're still alive.'  
  
'Spike.' I look up, meet her eyes.  
  
And suddenly, I'm thinkin' - did they ever look that intelligent when it was /me/ behind them?  
  
'Did you - I mean we - did we kill someone?'  
  
'No. Nothin' that simple, love.'  
  
'Ah.' And it's like she's got the answer to a question she wasn't asking, not out loud.  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
Long silence.  
  
'That was why you got your soul.' she says eventually.  
  
'And a soddin' brilliant move that was.' I say. 'So I got a soul. Not gonna put things right, is it?'  
  
'It doesn't.' Tink says. 'In the end... putting things right comes down to us, whether we've changed, whether we can answer for what we've done, whether we can begin again.'  
  
'One outta three.' I look down. 'Not good, is it?'  
  
'It's still plenty far.' she says.  
  
'Not far enough.' I sigh. 'Not far enough. And I'm still goin' back. Love's bitch, that's what I am. Got me whipped like a dog.'  
  
'But it's not just Buffy.'  
  
I open my mouth to say yes, it /is/, it's /always/ about the Slayer...  
  
...when it hits me.  
  
It's Niblet. It's Tink. It's demon girl. Even Red.  
  
Still not Harris, though. I've got a /soul/, not turned into a droolin' idiot.  
  
He'd snark somethin' 'bout not bein' able to tell the difference...  
  
I would've gone back, yeah, but it would've been about /her/.  
  
This... isn't.  
  
Somethin' bad's happened to Tink, to Red...  
  
And I want to know what.  
  
For my sake. For the sake of the girl sittin' across from me in my own body.  
  
I want to find out who made Tink bleed, and then I want to put it right, the way I know - knew - best.  
  
'Course, there're a couple of little obstacles in the way, like my bod currently bein' occupied by Tink's soul, like me bein' invisible to everyone 'cept Tink, (but, hey, it's not like I /want/ them to see me), and like us bein' the subject of a stake on sight policy from everyone in Sunnyhell.  
  
Not like /that's/ gonna stop us.  
  
I find myself hopin' the Slayer caught up with the bastard who did it. 'Cause if she didn't...  
  
'No,' I tell her finally. 'No, it isn't.'  
  
She manages a tiny smile at that, and it /still/ takes me back, seein' that. Seein' her expressions play out across my face. Softenin' it.  
  
Not rebel, not Big Bad, not William, not love's bitch...  
  
It's /her/ look. Not Spike's look.  
  
And... I /like/ it. Somehow, it looks sorta right on my face.  
  
Weird, ain't it?  
  
'Will you tell me?' Tink says suddenly.  
  
'Not here.' I say. 'Not here. But... but yeah, I'll tell you. I'll tell you.'  
  
'Thank you, Spike.' she says, eyes down.  
  
Not when I tell you what it was, you won't, I think to myself.  
  
'Yeah,' I say, leanin' back. 'How about you? What 'bout your /own/ moment back there?'  
  
Tink freezes up.  
  
'It's going to happen again.' I tell her.  
  
'I know.' She's gone into little-kid voice again. 'Spike... there... there was... there was a part of me that /wanted/ to do it... that /wanted/ to take his blood... I never wanted... I never wanted... and then...' She doesn't look up at me. 'And then... You know what keeps going through my mind?'  
  
'What?' But I know what she's going to say.  
  
'Willow.' she says. 'I keep thinking "this is how it was for her"... only, not like that... I don't think she ever feared it... but... but if I'd done it... if I'd done it... I would've killed him... I would've killed him, and...' She looks down. 'And part of me wanted that... wanted to kill him, wanted his blood... but...'  
  
'But you couldn't do it.'  
  
'But...' Her - my - voice's starting to crack. 'Spike... I would have killed a man. I would have killed someone... and that part of me... that part of me... it still wants to... it still wants...'  
  
'It always wants.' I say quietly. 'That's the demon in you, comin' through clear and strong. It wants /blood/.'  
  
Tink shrinks down into herself. 'Oh God...'  
  
'It never stops, not all the days you'll live. It's never gonna stop. Shut it out, it comes back more powerful than ever - no wonder Angel's such a repressed wanker.'  
  
'And if I give into it...' she murmurs. 'If I give in... that's Willow's path... she chose the magic... she /hurt/ people... I could /kill/...'  
  
'You fought it down.'  
  
She sits there, open-mouthed.  
  
'You /fought it down/.' I repeat, just in case she didn't catch it.  
  
'No,' she says quietly. 'No... I /did/... It /did/ go back... but it was /winning/, it was /winning/, Spike...' Her - my - eyes are moist. 'It was... it was everything... no, no... my family couldn't have dreamed of this... couldn't dream of what it'd do...'  
  
No kidding, I think. 'You did it.'  
  
'Because you were there.' Tink says, still in that quiet voice. 'Because you knew what was happening. If you hadn't been there...' Her hands are trembling again. 'If you hadn't been there...'  
  
'Don't go thanking me just yet, pet.' I say. 'It's /my/ demon you're wrestling with.'  
  
'I know.' she says softly. 'But you were there.'  
  
'And you controlled it. Important lesson, there.'  
  
'But it's one I have to relearn.' She looks up. 'It's one I have to learn all over again - I have to learn it for /real/ - and a mistake would kill someone.'  
  
'Like Red and magic.'  
  
Tink nods. 'That's what I mean, Spike. If I lose control - if I lose control in /Sunnydale/ - people are going to be hurt. People I /know/. And...' Her voice's barely louder than a whisper, now. 'I couldn't... I couldn't take that. I just... I /couldn't/.'  
  
'So you wanna hold back a while?'  
  
Headshake. 'No. No... that's the problem. That's the problem. Anywhere we go, people're going to get hurt. They're going to-'  
  
'So what you need to do is /channel/ it.' I say. ''Swhat I did. Used it against demons.'  
  
'I'm...' She looks down. 'Spike, I'm not... I'm not so good with the violence. Even with demons. It's just...'  
  
'And it harm none, do what thou wilt.' I quote. 'Been around enough Wiccans to hear that part of it.'  
  
'That's just it.' It's the quiet voice again. 'And now there's a part of me... that wants to harm people. That wants to hurt people. That wants to kill people. It... It... Spike, I can't... It /hurts/...'  
  
'Don't get suicidal on me again.' I advise. 'No bloody way. This's /my/ body you're talkin' about. And we can't ask many questions if we're dust...'  
  
Tink tries for a smile, but fails. 'No... No, I'm not going to. But...'  
  
I sigh. 'Look, you fought it down once. You can do it again. I thought you were all into that centering and meditation stuff, so why don't you /use/ it for once, see if it helps? Not like we don't have the time.'  
  
There's a tiny little gleam of hope in there, and it's about to get squashed by the fear. 'But... we've only got a few hours. It... It's not going to be long enough.'  
  
'So? Gotta get started /somewhere/, and now's a good a time as any.'  
  
Her jaw sets. '...Alright. I'll do it.'  
  
And I know, in that moment, we've won this little battle.  
  
Lot more to go, but hey, that's what we're here for.  
  
I sit back. '...So, Sam, how's it goin'? Anywhere near gettin' those cigarettes yet? This sure don't look like a corner store...'  
  
There's a twinkle in her eye. 'Things got a bit... messy along the way. I'm working on it.'  
  
'You'd better be.' I say. 'If you don't do it, you're never gonna leap.'  
  
'We've got to get Spike out of this in one piece first.' she says.  
  
I pretend to consider. 'Okay, that's good. Just be sure you get the cigarettes.'  
  
'I will.'  
  
'So did I tell you about Tina? Now there is one *hot* babe. I was /this/ close to askin' her out to dinner, when suddenly-'  
  
Tink wrinkles her - my - nose. '/Al.../'  
  
--- 


	3. Filling In The Blanks

Tara:  
  
Apparently, there aren't all that many flights between Uganda and the USA, so Spike tells me.  
  
Which is why we're in London, so we can catch a flight to Sunnydale.  
  
I was a bit envious of Mr Giles, to tell the truth. England sounded so... so exciting and exotic, and I thought the people there would be like Mr Giles, gentle and warm and listening, and that Spike was the way he was because he was a vampire.  
  
And then... oh Lord, Willow and I made complete /idiots/ of ourselves when the delagation from the Watcher's Council came round, we were so nervous.  
  
Then Buffy stood up to them, took charge, and we were all whooping and cheering her on...  
  
Sorry. Sorry.  
  
Anyway, here we are in London.  
  
And part of me wants to go to Bath, to see how Mr Giles is, see whether he's heard anything about... about Willow and the others.  
  
I mean... I mean, we told him Buffy'd come back, would they tell him if...  
  
If I died?  
  
Then I think about how all I know is that he's in Bath, and I have no clue where Bath is, and no clue where to find Mr Giles, and no idea what to say to him if I did find him.  
  
"Um, Mr Giles? It's me, T-"  
  
Dust.  
  
I wish I had his phone number, then I could leave a message on the machine. If he had one.  
  
Not long to go, now.  
  
I try to keep away from the windows, because, well, sunlight and reflection.  
  
Reflection.  
  
I don't have one.  
  
I can't... I can't look in mirrors.  
  
It's... it's kind of a reminder. I'm not really here. I'm not really /here/, so I don't have a reflection.  
  
I know it's stupid, that it's part of the vampire thing, but... I can't look. I can't look, and see I'm not really here.  
  
It's a kinda blessing, in a way, too. I don't have to look into a mirror, see Spike looking back at me.  
  
He's still here as a ghost, though, but it's /him/ ghost. It's him. Not me.  
  
I don't have to see. Part of me wants to, in that kind of 'horrified fascination' way, but I don't have to.  
  
I don't have to.  
  
But still... I know what he looks like. I know what /I/ look like, now.  
  
And I know that no matter what it looks like, the body's cold and dead.  
  
It's /dead/.  
  
I'm walking around, but I'm /dead/. I'm cut off.  
  
Where there should be a heartbeat, the sound of breathing... nothing. The body doesn't move unless I set it in motion.  
  
Where there should be peace... endless, endless hunger. A pit inside me that wants and wants and wants and can never be satisfied.  
  
Where there should be sunlight... nothing.  
  
Nothing, ever again.  
  
I used... I loved the sun, I loved the light, the warmth, the beach. I...  
  
It was /there/. It was there, in Willow's smile, in the flicker of a candle flame, in a warm bed on a cold night...  
  
Always there.  
  
Now...  
  
Now, I can watch, but never touch. Its touch is death, bursting into flames, immolation in the fire.  
  
And I promised Spike I wouldn't do it. I promised him.  
  
I have to keep it.  
  
I have to...  
  
I'm cut off.  
  
I'm cut off, but I'm still connected.  
  
I still have the gift. The magic still comes to me.  
  
And... I don't understand, I don't understand how I can be dead, yet still have the gift. Vampires can do magic, I know... but I never knew they could have the gift, the power. They weren't a part of the Earth, not any more...  
  
I don't...  
  
I'm still connected. There's still an oath to be kept. There's still a promise to be met. There's an obligation that can't be ignored.  
  
There's still a balance.  
  
I keep telling myself that. Hold on to that.  
  
Focus. Focus.  
  
Centre. Centre.  
  
The hunger is of me, but it's /not/ me.  
  
Not me.  
  
I'm Tara Maclay. I'm nearly 21 years old. I'm a witch. I stutter whenever I'm nervous. I'm not good with violence.  
  
I had a kitten, Miss Kitty Fantastico (what happened to her? I haven't seen her in so long). I fell in love. I had a family.  
  
All the while, I can feel the hunger within.  
  
/My/ hunger.  
  
All the while, I feel ready to break, ready to accept insanity, a blessed release from the knowledge, from knowing what I am, what I /really/ am.  
  
But I've been insane. It's no escape.  
  
I have to face it. I have to /know/.  
  
I have to know what I am. What I've become.  
  
But it's like Spike said - there /are/ no rules for what I am. For what we are.  
  
There's no-one to teach me. No-one to tell me.  
  
I have - /we/ have - to learn this all over again.  
  
We learned - we knew, we thought we knew, what, what we were.  
  
And then it changed, it all changed, and now we have to learn it again. Learn what we are, what we've become.  
  
That's why we're going back. We have to know. Have to know how this happened.  
  
So we're going back to the beginning. Where it began.  
  
And oh God, I wish I thought this was the right thing to do, that we were doing the right thing.  
  
I wish I could be sure about this.  
  
I wish...  
  
---  
  
Spike:  
  
"Welcome to Sunnydale."  
  
I am so bloody sick of that sign.  
  
So bloody /sick/ of it.  
  
And knowin', this time, I came back of my own free will, makes it absolutely no better.  
  
I came /back./  
  
I have offically lost it. Sanity is no longer welcome in Spikeville. Leave all mail at the door.  
  
Might as well move in with the bricklayer, while I'm at it.  
  
God, NO!  
  
Good, ain't lost it all. The day I think Harris is intelligent company is the day I exorcise myself.  
  
Okay. Crypt. My crypt.  
  
Hope Clem's been lookin' after it. If he hasn't, I'm gonna...  
  
God. This is pathetic, isn't it?  
  
Right then, off we go.  
  
Not bein' a complete idiot, I check the cemetery out before she goes in.  
  
No Slayer. Good. Different cemetery tonight.  
  
Here we go.  
  
Then I realise Tink isn't with me. She's back a bit, casting around lookin' for-  
  
Oh, right.  
  
'Don't think it'll be here, love.'  
  
She jumps.  
  
'I know.' she says, all quiet voice again, 'I... I was... I wanted to know...'  
  
'Yeah. Thing is, they ain't 'xactly likely to bury you near the evil vamp's place. Too many bad memories. Nah. Probably closer to the Slayer's.'  
  
'W-why?'  
  
'You were family.' I say. 'One of 'em. They'd wanna keep you close.'  
  
'I... I wasn't that...' Tink begins.  
  
'Yeah? Ask Niblet. Girl practically doted on you.'  
  
'I... I...'  
  
'No.' I tell her. ''Cause the Slayer and me, we weren't watchin' her. Too wrapped up in each other, we were. Which means...'  
  
'Which means...' Tink pales suddenly. 'Oh God, Dawnie! Oh God, she was at school that day-'  
  
I open my mouth, then close it again. /I/ wasn't there. I wasn't there, and right now-  
  
'Dawnie... Oh my God, Dawnie... she was so happy, so happy we were back together... no...' Tears are tracking down her face. 'No...'  
  
She breaks down, sobbing.  
  
I sit down next to her.  
  
'Dawnie...' she whispers.  
  
I don't say anything. Not just yet.  
  
Niblet doted on Tink. Almost like a mother. Not Joyce, never Joyce... but still /there/. The one who listened to her, who reminded her to live when Buffy died, who did everythin' she could to keep her going...  
  
Comin' home, findin' her body...  
  
The world couldn't be that cruel. Couldn't.  
  
Then again, it's cruel enough to pull Tink out of whatever heaven /she/ was in, so...  
  
Oh God.  
  
Oh God, what do I /do?/  
  
'We'll make it right.' I say softly. 'We'll make it right. She deserves that, she does. She deserves it.'  
  
'Can we?' she whispers, her voice empty. 'Can we? I died... I died, and Dawnie...'  
  
'We can do right by /her/.' My voice's barely holdin' it together. Joyce. Oh God, Joyce, Dawnie... you never deserved this... no-one deserved that... oh, not /you/... I hurt her... Oh God... I hurt her, I swore to protect her, the most precious girl in my life and I hurt her...  
  
'By her.' I repeat.  
  
Caught in this touchin' moment, neither of us notice the vamp slippin' up behind us.  
  
We notice when it *poofs*, tho'.  
  
Tink and me look up.  
  
Clem. It's Clem. And I've never been more grateful to see the cheating, loose-skinned son-of-a-bitch in all my life.  
  
'Spike?'  
  
'C-Clem?' Tink says.  
  
'Here, lemme help you up.' Clem offers, reaching out.  
  
Tink takes it. 'Th-thank you.'  
  
Once she's standing, he looks away. Never been good with cryin', Clem. Too much of a softie. Sucker for a good sob story.  
  
'You alright?' he says.  
  
'I will be.' Tink says.  
  
'Um... good trip?'  
  
'I'm... I'm still recovering.' Good one.  
  
'Find what you were lookin' for? Get back okay?'  
  
She hesitates. 'You... could say that.'  
  
'Like the new style.'  
  
Let's take a moment to consider this statement, shall we? Right now, Tink's outfitted in the T-shirt, jeans and jacket we managed to pick up at the market. 'Shabby' doesn't even /begin/ to describe these.  
  
That's Clem for you. No class.  
  
'Thank you.' Tink says.  
  
'So, um... why don't we get back to the crypt?' Clem says. 'I, um, I was gonna order pizza, maybe... maybe watch "Monsters, Inc."...'  
  
I sigh. 'Clem, we /are/ monsters.'  
  
He can't hear me, worse luck.  
  
'That sounds good.' Tink says, ignoring her resident Spike.  
  
Clem brightens up. 'Okay!'  
  
They trot off, and I trail along behind.  
  
---  
  
The crypt's littered with fast food wrappers, pizza boxes, beer cans and crisp bags.  
  
Have I mentioned Clem has no class?  
  
'Um... I was gonna clean up earlier...' he says.  
  
'That's okay.' Tink reassures him. 'Have you been alright?'  
  
Clem blinks, surprised. 'Yeah. Yeah, I've been okay. Things usually get quiet this time of year demon-wise anyway.'  
  
'How's Buffy been?'  
  
Clem's never been good with evasive. 'S why he cheats at poker. 'Um... she's good, she's good. Doing well, the last time I saw her. Dealin' with a lot of her issues. She and Dawnie are like /that/,' - he demonstrates, crossing his fingers - 'these days.'  
  
'How is she?'  
  
'Dawn? Oh, she's doing great. Shot right up, these last few months. Almost as tall as you, now.'  
  
'How about the others?'  
  
/Definitely/ jittery. 'Well, Anya's been getting back into the vengeance demon business. Takes her all sorts of places. Xander's been workin' on the new high school, and, um, Willow's been... away. Needed to get out of town for a while.'  
  
Tink visibly swallows. 'What... what about the other... the other witch? I thought... I thought they'd got back together...'  
  
'...She died,' Clem can't meet her eyes. 'She died, Spike. I'm sorry.'  
  
'How...' Swallow. 'How did it happen?'  
  
'Well... um... You remember that Warren guy? Uber-geek guy, gang of nerds?' When she nods slowly, he continues. 'Soon after you left, he came round Buffy's house... wanted to kill her, I think... and he, uh, killed Tara. Shot her dead.'  
  
'What happened to him?' Tink says softly.  
  
'She was a really sweet girl, you know? Really sweet and nice... she didn't deserve to go like that, not her... no-one does...'  
  
'What happened to Warren?' she repeats.  
  
'He died.' Clem still can't meet her eyes.  
  
'How?'  
  
'...Willow. It was Willow. She killed him.' he says, looking down, 'Buffy... Buffy hustled Dawnie over here, so she'd be somewhere safe, then, um... then... Dawnie... Dawn and me, we went over to Rack's place... you know, the black magic guy... lookin' for Willow, and, um... then she showed up... and sucked him dry.'  
  
Idiot. /Idiot/. /I/ wouldn't have let Niblet do anything that mind- bogglingly stupid.  
  
Can you blame her?  
  
/I wasn't here./  
  
Idiot, idiot, /idiot!/  
  
'Wanted... she wanted the magic, the power, to, um, take care of the rest of the geek guys...'  
  
I can guess what he means when he says 'take care', and it's not pretty.  
  
'Then what?' Tink asks, her voice gone scary-quiet.  
  
I glance over at her at that.  
  
'Then, um, Buffy's Watcher... Giles? I think that's his name... he showed up. Apparently, apparently they'd seen what was going on, and so they, um, zapped him over here. And then, she, um... she sucked him dry. Not "dead" dry, but, um... dry. And it, um... it overloaded her. She couldn't take it. Couldn't... so she um... decided to, um... destroy herself... and the world with her.'  
  
'And then?' Tink says in that same quiet voice.  
  
'Xander.' Clem blurts. 'It was Xander. He... he managed to get through to her. Reach her. I... I didn't quite get how, but... but he got through... and then... and after that, Giles took her back to Britain... she needed to get away, get out of town...'  
  
Tink's gone into scary silence mode.  
  
'Well... um... you must be tired from the flight... um, why don't I go get the pizza?' Clem says. 'Um... Extra-large, Meat Feast do you...?'  
  
Silence.  
  
'Um, I'll... uh.. Yeah, I'll...' Clem wisely decides to flee.  
  
Tink doesn't see him go.  
  
She sinks to the floor.  
  
And then she starts to cry, big, wet tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
Silently.  
  
'...So silly...' she manages to say through wracking sobs. 'Isn't it silly...? We... we could have stopped off in London... seen Willow and Mr Giles... didn't have to go to... to all this trouble... could just have said hello... isn't it silly... ?'  
  
'Maybe next time, love.' I say, sitting down next to her. 'Maybe we'll catch them next time.'  
  
'Next time...' she agrees.  
  
Silence.  
  
'Spike...?'  
  
'Yeah, love?'  
  
'How... how... I don't... how... how could... I don't... Willow... how...' She lifts her head, meets my eyes, but it's not me she's looking at. 'I don't... /why/?'  
  
'Got me there, love.'  
  
She's not asking me, anyway. Not really.  
  
But I know. Oh yeah, /I/ know.  
  
Not what she needs right now, tho'. Not at all.  
  
'I used to read her fairy tales,' she murmurs. 'I used to tell her these, these stories, and she'd be all curled up in bed... then, then we'd snuggle up together, whisper in each others' ear... she was so soft, so warm... and we'd stay in bed till after the sun came up and, and we had to go to classes...' She's looking at me, looking properly now. 'How... how could Willow do that? How could she do something like that...?'  
  
'I don't know, love.' I tell her. 'I don't know...'  
  
*prrr*  
  
'What-?' Tink begins.  
  
It slips out from round the chair, a black and grey shadow. Then it blinks at us, trots over to me and sniffs.  
  
'Hey! Hey!' I tell it. 'Get away from there! Shoo!'  
  
The kitten doesn't listen, sniffin' closer.  
  
'What...?' Tink begins again.  
  
'...Clem.' I snarl. 'Bloody Clem! The bastard decided to have the soddin' kitten poker sessions in _my_ crypt! No /wonder/ it's all trashed! "I was gonna clean it up"... yeah, /right/!'  
  
'Kitten poker?!' Tink gasps. 'Spike-!'  
  
'Hold onto him.' I tell her. 'He'll come in handy for the stake.'  
  
'SPIKE!' she gasps, scooping the kitten up into her arms. 'Come here. Come here. Come to Mommy... We're not going to let the bad ghost use you for poker, are we? No, we're not!'  
  
She glares at me as the kitten nuzzles at her - but underneath there's a part of her that's /glad/ for the distraction.  
  
She ain't the only one.  
  
'Huh. Not like /I'm/ gonna touch him, is it?' I huff.  
  
'Actually...' She dares a quick look at its backside. 'I think she's a, a she...'  
  
The kitten *prrrs* again, and nuzzles at Tink's arm.  
  
'Yeah, whatever. Not like we're gonna keep her 'round anyway.'  
  
Tink *looks* at me. 'Spike, we are /not/ going to turn her out onto the street!'  
  
'And why not?' I inquire, my arms crossed.  
  
'Kitten poker?' she retorts. 'Spike, you're a /ghost/, she can't hurt you!'  
  
'How are we gonna feed her?' I demand. 'Or wash her? And what about the... the litter?'  
  
Tink tickles the kitten under her chin. 'We'll take care of it, won't we? Yes we will, yes we will...'  
  
'Yeah,*sure*...' I mutter.  
  
'Pay no attention to the mean old ghost.' Tink tells the kitten. 'He's just sore because he didn't have a cigarette today.'  
  
I look up at the heavens. '/Women./'  
  
It's official.  
  
I am now Tara-whipped.  
  
---  
  
Tara:  
  
I look down at the little patch of ground, at the stone set at its head, the coat fluttering behind me in the light breeze.  
  
'Goodbye,' I whisper to my grave.  
  
Then I step away.  
  
Spike steps forward then, crouches down in front of it, running his ghostly fingers over the inscription.  
  
He murmurs something then. It sounds like a line of poetry.  
  
I don't listen closely. Some things are best left personal.  
  
Finally, he stands up, steps back to join me.  
  
We stand there in silence for a while, by my own grave.  
  
Finally, Spike says 'Wanna go?'  
  
I nod, and we leave the place.  
  
She's dead.  
  
That soft-eyed, quiet-voiced girl... the girl who felt frumpy and unloved, who tried to hide her body in baggy clothes, who believed no-one could ever love her, not her stutter, her lank hair, until she met Willow... that girl... she's dead.  
  
All there is now is a dead body in the ground, and a dead body walking the earth.  
  
All there is.  
  
'Dawnie.' Spike says suddenly.  
  
'Hm?'  
  
'The inscription on the stone. Dawnie put it there. It's her touch.'  
  
'Yes,' I agree. 'Yes, it is.'  
  
He plunges his hands into his pockets. 'So what now? Back to the crypt and the dead rats your kitten's leavin' on the floor?'  
  
'She's not a ratter,' I chide him. 'But... no. There's something I want to do first.'  
  
'Yeah? What?'  
  
---  
  
The Magic Box looks as if a horde of demons hit it, and I want to believe that *was* what happened...  
  
But it wasn't.  
  
It was Willow. My Willow.  
  
I know it. I know it, like I knew she loved me, like I knew Mama was dying...  
  
I know it. This was her.  
  
She did this. She devastated the shop, drained Mr Giles...  
  
She did this.  
  
'Spike? Is that you?' Anya comes out of the shop, carrying a box of... well, of debris, there's no other word for it. 'Just to let you know before any talking begins, you don't get to go there again.'  
  
She sets the box down on the kerb.  
  
And I realise... I realise the cues I'm getting from her, the signals, the faint tang of her scent in the air... they're not human.  
  
She's a demon again.  
  
'Hello, Anya.'  
  
She stops.  
  
Blinks.  
  
Peers closer.  
  
'Oh my God. Oh my God. How did you /do/ that? I can...' Her face darkens. 'You're not Spike. You're *not* Spike. Who /are/ you?'  
  
'Get *out* of here!' Spike hisses. 'Get out! *Now!*'  
  
'Fiat Lux.'  
  
The tinkerbell light pops into being.  
  
Anya blinks again. Stares.  
  
'It's me, Anya.' I say quietly. 'It's Tara.'  
  
Anya's head snaps up. 'Tara? But you were dead! We went to the funeral! No- one wanted to talk to me - the whole vengeance demon thing. It was a very moving service, at least I think it was. Your deadbrained family didn't show, thankfully.'  
  
'It's me.' I repeat. 'Tara.'  
  
'Tell the whole world, why don't you?'  
  
'Shh.' I tell him.  
  
Anya's eyes narrow, and her gaze tracks over to where Spike's standing. 'Spike. If you're there, then... oh my god, it's Tara, it /is/ Tara! How did the two of you /do/ that?'  
  
'It's a long story.'  
  
'And, of course, we've got so much to do.' Spike snarks.  
  
Anya hefts the box. 'Just let me dispose of this, and then we'll talk. How does that sound?'  
  
'I'd rather be forced to haunt the Poofter.' Spike mutters.  
  
'Be nice, Spike.' Anya and I tell him in unison.  
  
---  
  
We sit down in the Espresso Pump, at a quiet table alone.  
  
'...Everything we deserve?' Anya frowns. 'You're sure he didn't mean in a vengeance-type way? Because that's D'Hoffryn's thing, and he's not going to be too happy if someone's trying to poach.'  
  
'Yep.' Spike says. 'Clear on that. *Not* vengeance.'  
  
'Everything we deserve?' Anya shakes her head. 'It'll come to me, it'll come to me. But it would work... must have been one of the old ones if he could do this. One of the powerful ones. Because there's no way that your soul would have ended up haunting your own body, without that kind of intervention. You would have been cohabiting, like in that Steve Martin film with the weirdness. Or, or Tara would have been haunting /Spike/, like in that film with the pottery.'  
  
My mouth drops open. 'This was /deliberate/?'  
  
'He /wanted/ this?' Spike growls. 'I'm gonna find a way to get physical and kick his ass, then I'm going back to Africa and I'm gonna kick his ass from here to Hell!'  
  
'I wouldn't. Creatures like that are usually too powerful to kill easily. Or at all, sometimes. They usually have their own reasons for whatever they do, and they're not usually, you know, friendly.' Anya says. 'I would have thought you knew that.'  
  
'Had other things on my mind.' Spike mutters.  
  
'Buffy,' Anya guesses. 'Well, she hasn't mentioned you since you left... but then we haven't been talking much, so I wouldn't know.'  
  
'Wouldn't surprise me.' Spike mutters. 'Not like I didn't deserve it.'  
  
'If it's any help, she hasn't been feeling vengeful lately... though that may change if you show up. Dawn's a bit more promising, but we were occupied by saving the world before I could get there.'  
  
'I know. I heard about it.'  
  
Anya considers. 'Well, it's not like it hasn't been a big topic. Apocalypses usually tend to be, you know. And Rack was a player in this town. Or at least, he was, before-'  
  
'Before Willow killed him.' I finish.  
  
Anya regards me more critically. 'You /are/ well-connected. Most of them don't know that. You're remarkably calm about this. You're not about to break down into a blubbering heap on my shoulder, are you?'  
  
'Been there, done that.' Spike says. 'We're just workin' on the "dealing" part.'  
  
Not even that, I don't say.  
  
'You're dealing with this very well.' Anya says.  
  
'So are you.' Spike says. 'I mean, why else're you stayin' round the place? Vengeance demon of the world, you are. You don't have to stay here. Go as you please. But instead, you stay near the guy who... oh, lessee... /left you at the altar/. Very well.'  
  
'This is where my apartment is.' Anya says, her face stony. 'This is where my ex-livelihood was.'  
  
'But you can leave them. Got /your/ business with them sorted out. No reason for you to stay... unless you're as masochistic as Tink and me.'  
  
'/Spike.../'  
  
'Tink?' Anya echoes. 'Peter /Pan/?! I hated that crocodile with its tick tick tick. I didn't want it to eat the nice man with the hook.'  
  
'Why're you here?' Spike asks. 'What's holding /you/ here?'  
  
'You miss it.' I whisper. 'Being human. You miss it.'  
  
'Hey, don't go transferring *your* issues onto me!' Anya huffs. 'I've read about this, you know.'  
  
'Then why /are/ you here?' Spike presses. 'Never read about makin' a new life for yourself, smart lady like you? New people, new friends, all of that crap?'  
  
Anya's mask drops for a moment. 'Where else can I go? It... it was all I had, and now I don't have it any more.'  
  
'Got the vengeance.' Spike points out.  
  
Anya stares down at her coffee. 'Yes. I do.'  
  
'Vengeance not feelin' so good any more?' Spike presses. 'Afraid of hurtin' people? Afraid it'll be okay to hurt people? Okay. So what do you have?'  
  
'I... I don't /know!/' Anya wails. 'All I had was Xander, but then he left me, and then all I had was the vengeance, and even /that's/ not fulfilling, and I don't know what to /do/ any more!'  
  
'Don't look at us.' Spike says. 'What do /you/ want to do?'  
  
'Why don't you tell me?' Anya challenges. 'You're the one with all the insight into my life, why don't you tell /me/ what I should do?'  
  
'No.' I say. 'Anya... /we can't tell you that./'  
  
'/Why not?!/' Anya shrieks. 'Why not?!'  
  
'We've got more than enough lives to lead, pet.' Spike says. 'Can't be living anyone else's.'  
  
'Then /what do I do?!/' Anya's... oh my God, Anya's crying. Anya's /crying/. What...  
  
Whoa. Sunnydale's turning into CryFest 2002, and that was /so/ wrong of me...  
  
Reflexively, I hand Anya a tissue.  
  
She declines it, pulls out one of her own, dries her eyes.  
  
'What do I do? What...' she repeats.  
  
'What do you want to do?' I ask.  
  
'I don't... I don't know.' she murmurs.  
  
'Well, we can go get some buffalo wings while you try to figure it out, 'cause I'm not having Tink do this on an empty stomach.' Spike says. 'Shall we go?'  
  
'Yes.' Anya decides, pushing back her chair. 'Yes. Let's go.'  
  
--- 


	4. Setting The Terms

[AN: Some of the dialogue in this chapter is lifted from Season 7.01, "Lessons".  
  
At least in these early chapters, I'll be sticking as close to canon as possible - but without Spike in the basement, and with both him and Tara relatively sane (and unprogrammed... at least as far as they know), things are going to be different, getting more so as time passes.  
  
Different in what ways, I don't know. Guess I'll have to find out. g]  
  
---  
  
Spike:  
  
'So what are you going to do now?'  
  
Demon girl's watchin' us over the buffalo wings, watchin' us warily, almost... scared.  
  
Looks like it's put up or shut up time.  
  
Tink sighs, like she really doesn't wanna get into this.  
  
I'm watchin' her too. Wanna see what she has to say.  
  
Haven't really talked about this, not since we found out what Red did. No, she decided to do a bit of crypt-cleaning, clean the place up, make it a bit more liveable for her and the kitten - not like I need it, not now, but what the hell, it's my place, isn't it?  
  
Anyway.  
  
'We've got... some things to sort out.' Tink says eventually. 'Well, find out if we can sort out, anyway.'  
  
She doesn't say _what_ things, tho' - we all know what. The same things everything comes round to.  
  
Demon girl hms, thinking this over. 'What are you going to tell them?'  
  
Tink sighs, even deeper. 'I can't play Spike - no offence, Spike, but I'm... I'm not that good an actor. I... I can't _be_ you, even with you there to coach me.'  
  
'None taken.' I say. 'Wasn't gonna ask you to do that, anyway.'  
  
'So how are you going to tell them?' demon girl asks. 'Is there anything you can tell them? Something only you know, like maybe secret tattoos only you know about? That usually works on TV...'  
  
'Um... not really.' Tink says. 'I think most of it is Willow-stuff, and she's not here, so...' She lets out a deep breath. 'And I think most of the other stuff I know is stuff Spike was there for...'  
  
I *blink* at that one. Even with the whole break-up with Red, I thought she'd still know some stuff...  
  
'What about Niblet?' I say. 'Two of you were pretty close, way I seem to recall...'  
  
'We were...' Tink sighs again. 'But I guess I'm not... not a "personal" kind of person. Not good on the whole "sharing personal details" thing... just on being friends. On being there.'  
  
'Well, _that_ certainly screws things up.' demon girl says. 'I mean, if you waltz up to them and say "Hello there, I'm Tara, back from the dead in Spike's incredibly well-formed body", they're likely to think you've - well, Spike's - gone insane. And if you try the magic thing, they're likely to think "insane, magic-wielding Spike" and stake you on sight.'  
  
'Like they weren't already?' I say.  
  
'I still have to try.' Tink says.  
  
'Well, that may be all well and good,' demon girl says, her tone managing to convey she thinks we don't stand a chance in Hell, 'but even supposing you get away with that, what are you going to tell them about Spike?'  
  
Tink can't look at me. 'I'm going to tell them... I don't know.'  
  
'Why not tell the truth?' demon girl asks.  
  
Tink lets out a breath. 'Because I'm afraid... I'm...' She closes her eyes. '...Because I can't do that to him.  
  
'I can't.  
  
'If I tell them, what are they going to do? You and I are the only ones who can talk to him - no-one else here can. They can't talk to him, can't see him... can't interact with him. Knowing he's walking around, that he could be somewhere, anywhere, unable to talk to them, speak with them, reach out to them... only able to watch...  
  
'...you don't think they'd think he's in Hell?'  
  
I shudder. Too perceptive for her own good, this girl. Too perceptive.  
  
'And whatever I tell them - whether I tell them about Spike or not - I'm afraid they're going to try to do something about it. Try to find a way to sort it out.  
  
'Soul magics are powerful magics - there aren't many who have the power to cast them. And in all honesty, I don't know _what_ they'd do to us...'  
  
'...Point.' demon girl says. 'And after the Buffy fiasco, I am _not_ in a hurry to see what they come up with for a sequel.' She eyes us. 'Personally, I would have thought one or both of you would have been all for it - or at least for something to get things the way they should be.'  
  
'It's not the best-case scenario, no...' Tink says. 'But we haven't taken the time to look it up yet.  
  
'And...' She takes another breath. 'As it stands, we've still got some things to sort out.'  
  
'Suppose you did sort everything out.' demon girl says. 'What would you do then?'  
  
'No switch.' I say quietly. 'No way in Hell.'  
  
Tink glances over at me, blinks.  
  
'Yeah, I might want a bod again - and yeah, I _know_ Tink'd rather anything than bein' a vamp - but you think I'm gonna go outta my way to find a new and different way to shaft her? No chance.'  
  
Tink blinks, her eyes widening as this sinks in. 'Spike-'  
  
'No.' I tell her. 'Whatever you're gonna say, /no/. It ain't happening.  
  
'You didn't deserve any of this in the first place - you think I'm gonna shaft you with this? Not happening.'  
  
'You /have/ changed...' demon girl notes.  
  
I shrug. 'Got a lot of time on my hands.'  
  
'All right. What about being released? Letting Tara go back to heaven, or wherever she was - although if it /wasn't/, someone's got a lot of questions to answer.'  
  
'I... I wasn't there, Anya.' Tink says softly, painfully. 'I... I was... I saw the light... I got to the threshold... but then I got called back.'  
  
I twitch.  
  
'Besides, I don't think that's the way it works.' she adds. 'Now I'm... I'm back here... I can't go back until.. until...'  
  
She stutters to a halt.  
  
'Do you know that for certain?'  
  
'Yeah.' I say. 'You think I'm gonna let myself get shafted by some poncey "happiness clause"? No chance. It's all or nothing. Just 'cause it's her soul in there instead don't mean that's changed.'  
  
'...All right.' demon girl says eventually. 'Still... there's always the possibility some demon is going to try to use this against you.'  
  
Tink rests her hands on the table. 'We'll deal with that when it happens. Perhaps Spike can stay out of sight if it looks like something like that's about to come up...?'  
  
'Mm,' demon girl says sceptically. 'Perhaps.'  
  
She looks over at Tink's plate, at the debris that's all that's left of the buffalo wings, then back at her own, and frowns.  
  
'Are you going to get this, or...?'  
  
'I'll get this.' Tink reassures her. 'And Anya...?'  
  
'Yes?' she says cautiously.  
  
'If you need to talk, come to Spike's old crypt. Even if we're not there, we should be back sooner or later.  
  
'Oh, and don't mind the kitten.'  
  
'...Kitten?' demon girl echoes. 'When did you have the chance to play kitten poker?'  
  
'She's /not/...' Tink sighs. 'She's our pet - well, my pet, anyway. And we are _not_ using her in a game of poker!'  
  
'Oh.' demon girl says.  
  
For some reason, she doesn't look convinced.  
  
I'm not surprised.  
  
---  
  
Tara:  
  
'Huh.' Spike says. 'Whaddya know. Staking out our place tonight. And you needed a spell to tell you that?'  
  
'Shh.' I say. 'Quiet.'  
  
But he's right, in a way.  
  
Tonight, Buffy - along with Dawn - they're patrolling Spike's cemetery.  
  
I mean, it's a very nice cemetery, as far as things go, but I'm still not comfortable with calling it mine. Not yet.  
  
Um.  
  
Well, anyway, this's where my locator spell has, um... located them - I didn't want to risk trekking 'round all of Sunnydale's cemeteries in case I couldn't get back by sunrise.  
  
At the moment, they're standing by a grave, watching a vampire pull himself out, while Spike and I are crouching behind the nearby tombstones.  
  
Part of me wants to rush over there and stake him, while the rest of me wants to hang back, see what's going on.  
  
From what Spike's saying, I'm guessing he'd go for option A.  
  
'Come on, come on, stake him already... geez, what're you doing out there, putting on your makeup?! An arthritic snail could've staked him faster than you!'  
  
Over this, my hearing - well, Spike's ears, if we're honest - can just catch what they're saying.  
  
'It's about power,' Buffy says, crouched down by the grave, holding a stake. 'Who's got it... Who knows how to use it...'  
  
She throws her stake over to Dawn, who catches it, still watching the vampire nervously.  
  
'So who's got the power, Dawn?'  
  
'Well, I've got the stake...' Dawn says.  
  
I grin. That's Dawnie...  
  
'The stake is not the power.' Buffy says.  
  
'Got _that_ right...' Spike mutters.  
  
'But he's new...' Dawn argues. 'Probably confused... doesn't know what he wants...'  
  
I wince.  
  
'Ouch.' Spike says quietly.  
  
The vampire's got both arms out of the grave now, looking at Dawn - somehow, I'm guessing he's not exactly looking scared - as he pulls himself out.  
  
'Blood...' the vampire murmurs.  
  
'He seems to have some focus there...' Buffy notes.  
  
'Yeah, okay,' Dawn says, 'but he doesn't know his strength, he might not know all the fancy martial arts they inevitably seem to pick up...'  
  
'They do?' I murmur. 'I must have missed out on that part...'  
  
'If you're a good little vampire, the Martial Arts Fairy Vamp comes and teaches you in your sleep.' Spike says.  
  
'Who's got the power?' Buffy inquires.  
  
'...He does.' Dawn finally says.  
  
Buffy goes over to her. 'Never forget that. Doesn't matter how well prepped you are, how well armed you are, you're a little girl.'  
  
'And this is an issue 'cause...?' Spike wonders.  
  
'Woman.' Dawn says.  
  
'You're a little woman.' Buffy says.  
  
Both Spike and I have to stifle the giggles at _that_ one.  
  
Dawn knows it too. 'I'm taller than you.'  
  
And she is. Of everything I missed in the months I've been away, this is the most surprising. In the time I was gone, Dawn's shot up to the point where she's taller than her older sister.  
  
And I wish - I /wish/ - I hadn't missed that. Not seeing her grow up...  
  
'_He's a vampire._' Buffy says. 'Okay? A demon. Preternaturally strong, skilled, with power that no human can ever-'  
  
'Got /most/ of it, love...' Spike says.  
  
'Excuse me...' the vampire says, still only half out of the grave. 'I think I'm stuck.'  
  
'You're stuck.' Buffy says.  
  
'Makes me ashamed to be a vampire, sometimes...' Spike murmurs. 'Stuck on your first rising? Dear oh dear...'  
  
'My foot's caught on a root or something. I don't even know how I got down there... if you girls could just give me a hand... '  
  
'Oh /please/...' Spike says.  
  
'So he's got the power.' Dawn says to Buffy.  
  
'Zip it.' Buffy says.  
  
'Never can stand to be contradicted, Slayer...' Spike observes.  
  
She walks over to the vampire, who's still going on. 'I really appreciate it... it's just so dark, and I don't know what I'm doing here... Maybe if you just give me some leverage I can work -'  
  
'What the hell are they choosing for fledglings these days?' Spike wonders. 'Really need to get some quality control in 'round here...'  
  
I have to agree. I may only be a vampire through magic, but even _I'm_ embarrassed by this guy's performance.  
  
Buffy pulls him out by the scruff of his jacket, and sets him on his feet.  
  
'Whoo. Thanks. That was a help.' the vampire says. 'Unfortunately, it was also the last-'  
  
Buffy's hand clasps around his throat.  
  
'-thing you'll ever do.' he manages to squeak.  
  
'Oh dear oh dear oh dear.' Spike says. 'Really _really_ should've listened, mate. This oughtta be fun.'  
  
'Listen up.' Buffy says. 'I'm the Slayer, you don't wanna get into it with me. You want blood, okay? So you can have hers. She's not the Slayer. She's the one to go after. Not me.'  
  
I keep a hold of myself. Dawnie's got the stake, Dawnie's got the stake...  
  
'I was thinking along those lines.' the vampire manages to get out.  
  
'Okay then.' Buffy says.  
  
She lets him go, and steps back.  
  
The vampire takes a step forward, while Dawn readies her stake.  
  
'Power.' Buffy continues. 'He's got it, he's gonna use it. You don't have it -'  
  
The vampire rushes Dawn-  
  
-who rolls back, going under him as he rushes past her and into a tombstone.  
  
'So you use that instead! Perfect!' Buffy finishes.  
  
Dawnie scrambles for the stake, having dropped it when he rushed her, jumps at the vampire, and stakes him -  
  
- a little too far to the right.  
  
He's angry now, backhanding her onto the ground. Before she can recover, he's on her, she's scrambling underneath him to get him off, pulls up a stake, he recoils, hisses, but grabs her arm and twists it till she drops the stake in pain-  
  
'BUFFY!' Dawnie yells, and Buffy's nowhere in sight-  
  
'FIAT LUX!!'  
  
It's not a ball of sunlight, but it _is_ light.  
  
And it startles him just enough that he turns-  
  
-and I'm out there, running for Dawnie.  
  
'Huh?!' the vampire gasps.  
  
'Get off her.' I tell him. 'Now.'  
  
'Make me.'  
  
'If that's the way you want it.' This time, I /deliberately/ let the demon forward.  
  
'Hey, I was here first.' the vampire protests. 'If you wanted a go, you should've waited.'  
  
'That's just it...' I say. 'I don't want a go. I want you to get off her. Now.'  
  
I take another step towards him.  
  
He's uncertain, nervous.  
  
The ball of light settles in my hand.  
  
Now he's _really_ nervous.  
  
'Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' the vampire says. He lets Dawnie go, lets her collapse to the ground. 'There. See? I'm off her. I'm off her.'  
  
'So you are.' Buffy says from behind him, and before he can turn around-  
  
-she's beheaded him with a sword.  
  
And it's only now I notice the bag of weapons nearby, and Spike standing next to me, his attention on Buffy.  
  
Buffy's attention is on Dawn, where she sits on the ground.  
  
Dawn's attention is on me - and the expression on her face is stunned and /scared/ and /hard/ and /cold/ and oh God Dawnie...  
  
I close my hand around the light, and it blinks out of existence.  
  
Finally, Dawn returns her attention to Buffy.  
  
'Let's get out of here.'  
  
'In a minute.' Buffy says, looking over Dawnie, checking to see if she's okay, then holding out her hand.  
  
Dawnie takes it, and Buffy helps her up.  
  
'Good. No damage done.' Buffy says.  
  
'Well, I had a plan the whole time.' Dawn says.  
  
'Really.'  
  
'Yeah. I planned to get killed, come back as a vampire, and bite you.'  
  
I catch the smile on Spike's face at that one.  
  
Oh God. Oh God... I've missed this. I've missed this. The banter, the staking, the whole... everything.  
  
I've missed it all.  
  
But not as much as the girls standing in front of me, not by a long way.  
  
'You wanted to be trained...' Buffy says.  
  
'"The stake is not the power",' Dawnie mimics. 'Thank you, Master Prada.'  
  
She looks over at me, obviously trying to decide what to do, before she turns away again.  
  
Buffy sighs, before turning to me. 'Spike-'  
  
'No.'  
  
I can see the cogs turning in Buffy's brain as she adjusts to this. 'Okay, William-'  
  
'No.' I say. 'No. It's not Spike. It's not William. It's not /them/...'  
  
'Then who...?' Buffy's looking... she's looking uncertain, shocked. She wasn't expecting this, wasn't expecting /me/.  
  
'Spikeus?' Dawn suggests. 'Williamus?'  
  
Spike is quiet, watching me, watching _them_. He says nothing.  
  
'Tara.' I open my hand, let the light free again. 'It's me. Tara.'  
  
And Dawnie's face gets harder and colder and...  
  
'Tara?' Buffy's reading me, reading my face, Spike's face, trying to see - insane? Demented? What? - but it won't work like that, I know.  
  
'I'm not insane, Buffy.' I tell her softly. 'I've been insane, I know what it is... but I'm not. Not any more. And I don't know what I could tell you that would convince you I am who I say I am.'  
  
'Funny shapes or rounds?' Dawn says abruptly.  
  
Buffy _blinks_.  
  
'Funny shapes.' I answer without thinking. 'You'd ask for rounds, but I made the funny shapes. I was never any good at rounds.'  
  
'What'd I sing about with that whole singing demon thing?'  
  
'Well, you told me math. I don't know if you got the chance to sing anything else.'  
  
'What did you tell me Spike'd built the Buffybot for?'  
  
'Checkers.' I say. Spike _looks_ at me. 'Well, it sounded good in my head.'  
  
'Okay.' Dawn says. 'Either Spike's been doing his research or it's Tara, and I'm guessing... not heavy on the research.'  
  
Her mouth drops open as the realisation sinks in. '...Tara?!!'  
  
Buffy's hand comes down on her shoulder. 'Careful, Dawn.' She looks up at me. 'What did you ask me when I told you about Spike, what we were doing?  
  
Dawn shoots a _look_ at her sister.  
  
'Do you want me to-' I begin, nodding to Dawnie.  
  
Buffy nods.  
  
'I asked if you loved him.' I say softly. 'You couldn't answer... you said you were using him, that it was wrong.'  
  
Spike nods at that one.  
  
'...Tara?' Buffy says finally.  
  
'As far as I know.' I say. 'You don't really get a change of ID with this, you know?'  
  
And suddenly Dawnie's on me, pummeling me on the chest. If I was still breathing, she'd be knocking the breath out of me.  
  
'HE KILLED YOU!!' she bawls. 'HE KILLED YOU! YOU WERE DEAD!! HE SHOT YOU AND YOU WERE _DEAD!!_'  
  
I don't say anything. I _can't_. I just let her pummel her fists against me, whudwhudwhudding into the skin until she falls against me.  
  
'You were _dead_...' she whispers. 'You were dead and I couldn't let you be alone... not like that... I couldn't leave you...'  
  
'Shh... shh... shh...' I tell her. 'Shh... I know, Dawnie. I know. I know.'  
  
She falls quiet, simply holding me.  
  
Then I look up at Buffy and Spike.  
  
Spike's expression is grim, as if one of his worst fears had been confirmed.  
  
Buffy's expression... I can't read it, can't read what she's thinking.  
  
'What happened to Spike?' she asks.  
  
'I... I couldn't say.' I tell her. 'I... when I came back... he wasn't there.'  
  
'But he left before you died...' Buffy murmurs. 'Didn't he...?'  
  
She shakes herself, bringing herself back under control.  
  
'What happened?'  
  
'I... I don't know.' I say. 'When I... came back... I was in a cave in Uganda, and there was no sign of Spike in my head. Whatever happened to him, it probably happened there.'  
  
Spike nods - good, good.  
  
'...But what _did_ happen to him?' Buffy murmurs. 'Was he looking for something, or-'  
  
Her eyes widen.  
  
'You've got a soul!'  
  
'I-I _think_ I do...' I demurr. 'I mean, I have real trouble - not chip trouble, _real_ trouble - with biting people. It's not the "how" of it, it's actually, you know, _doing_ it. I'm not exactly sure how you could prove I've got a soul, though...'  
  
'You've got a soul.' Buffy repeats. 'He gets a soul - and it's not _his?!_ What _happened_ to him?'  
  
'Maybe he just couldn't live with himself?' Dawn says, as I let her free of my arms.  
  
Spike gives her a major _look_.  
  
'_Dawnie!_' I gasp.  
  
'Maybe he couldn't...' Buffy says softly. 'Not any more. Maybe he didn't _want_ souled-him to remember what he'd done, wanted to be sure...'  
  
'...And brought Tara back.' Dawn finishes. 'Waow...'  
  
'What he'd done?' I say. 'I mean, from what you're saying, he'd left Sunnydale, and he hadn't told anyone...'  
  
'Maybe his demon friends.' Buffy says. 'But I didn't ask.'  
  
'Why'd he leave?' I ask. 'I remember the whole... um... well, Willow was saying about Anya and him, was that it?'  
  
'That was a part of it, yeah.' Buffy says, 'Most of it... I think you'd have to ask him.'  
  
Spike and Dawn's expressions darken.  
  
I look at Buffy and I _know_ she's being evasive - that she doesn't want to tell me what happened.  
  
And in not wanting to tell me, they've as good as told me what he did.  
  
Not the details. Not why he did it. But what he did... I know. I've known ever since he told me he hadn't killed anyone. Hadn't left because he'd killed someone.  
  
I know.  
  
It drove him to Uganda, drove him to ask for a soul - and set all this in motion.  
  
I told Buffy, I told her that he loved him - and she told me she was using him. Using him to feel - feel something.  
  
Feel what? Pain? Guilt? Anger? Hatred? Rage? I don't know. Something that would make her feel alive.  
  
The two of them... hurting each other for their own reasons, hurting and _wanting_ each other... wanting something to live for...  
  
...and then it detonated.  
  
And as long as I'm here, as long as I'm wearing his face... there'll be the memory, what he did, in the back of her mind. Of Dawnie's mind.  
  
...do any of the others know? Anya, I don't know... she said Buffy was feeling pretty vengeancy, but not why...  
  
...Willow? Xander?  
  
I don't know. I don't know...  
  
'Oh.' I say. 'I was, um, hoping someone would know... I mean, coming back like this? Kind of like to know why.'  
  
Buffy looks down. 'Sorry.'  
  
'It's not your fault.' I tell her. 'I mean, I knew I'd... that I'd... gone on... but, well, kind of wondering why I was back.'  
  
'Don't think we're gonna know anytime soon.' Buffy says.  
  
'Probably not.' I agree. Seeing the discomfort on Buffy's face, and the black expression on Spike's, I decide to change the subject, something they'll be wondering if I don't ask - but it's still uncomfortable, even so... 'So, um, how's Willow? I, um, haven't been able to find her anywhere...'  
  
Buffy and Dawn share _that_ look between them.  
  
'Um...' Buffy begins. 'Well... um, after you were shot - it was Warren, our resident evil geek-guy and serious screwup - Willow, um...'  
  
'Went on a rampage.' Dawn finishes. 'A magical rampage.'  
  
Buffy nods. 'And... Tara, I have to tell you this... she... she killed Rack and Warren in the process.' She hesitates. 'Deliberately.  
  
'In the end, Xander managed to get through to her, reach her, and then, um, Giles took her back to England.' And Buffy _knows_ I know Giles wouldn't come back unless it was something big, something massive. This is the best way she can tell me at the moment. Hint at it, hint around it.  
  
Willow wanted to destroy the Earth.  
  
Buffy's watching my face, watching for a reaction.  
  
'Thank you, Buffy.' I say quietly.  
  
And I can feel the tears trickling down my cheeks again, feel the hurt, knowing...  
  
Knowing she killed someone.  
  
'If you wanna come back to our place...' Dawn begins.  
  
I take a shuddering breath. 'T-thank you. Thank you, both of you... but I think... I need to... um, to go find myself a crypt.'  
  
'You're sure about that?' Buffy asks, the concern evident on her face.  
  
I nod. 'I need... I need some time alone. I'm sorry, Buffy.'  
  
Buffy and Dawn's concern is still evident.  
  
'You know you're always welcome at our place.' Buffy says.  
  
Dawn nods. 'Uh-huh. Whatever you need, you know, we'll be there for you. Always.'  
  
'Thank you.' I tell them. 'And I promise I _will_ come round some time... just not...'  
  
Buffy nods. 'I know. Take as long as you need.'  
  
'Maybe you could use Spike's crypt.' Dawn suggests. 'It's not like he's using it.'  
  
'I'll... I'll check it out.' I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the expression on Spike's face - if he were physical, he'd be in full demon face by now. 'Thank you, again.'  
  
'Any time.' Dawn says. 'And if you need anything, you know where to come.'  
  
'I do.' I can't hide the expression of relief that flitters across my face when she says that.  
  
'Anyway, Spike's crypt is...' Dawn cranes around. 'Over _that_ way, I think. Buffy?'  
  
Buffy glares at her, but nods. 'Uh-huh. If you take the next right on the path, you should get there no problem.'  
  
'Thank you.' I say again. In fact, it seems to be all I've been saying recently. 'I'll... I'll, um, I'll see you around?'  
  
'Well, _duh!_' Dawn says.  
  
Buffy nods. 'Yeah, pretty much a gimme.'  
  
'I guess.' I say, my mouth twitching again. 'Well, um... see you, then.'  
  
'See ya!' Dawn says, almost bouncing on her feet.  
  
'See you.' Buffy says.  
  
And with that, I'm off.  
  
Behind me, I can hear them talking.  
  
'Waow. I mean, just... waow.'  
  
'You know, I'm just guessing here, but I think you're impressed.'  
  
'And why not? I mean, Spike goes off and gets a soul... and it turns out to be Tara's. If _that_ isn't incredible, I don't know what is... hey, I wonder if she's got a happiness clause?'  
  
'Even if she does, it's not gonna kick in any time soon...'  
  
'...Yeah, I know, I know, but even so... waow...'  
  
As the conversation fades, Spike falls into step beside me. 'Did you _hear_ what those two were saying? "Not like he's using it"! Thanks a soddin' bunch, Niblet...'  
  
'Mm.' I say.  
  
'I mean, who'd the Slayer think she was tryin' to con? I mean, it's not as if "By the way, your girlfriend tried to destroy the world" is exactly a _little_ thing, is it?'  
  
'I think she knew that.' I observe.  
  
'And what about "I think you'd have to ask him", huh? She knows. It's about her. It's _always_ about _her!_ "Couldn't live with himself"... hah! You _wish!_ Like you're _that_ important!'  
  
'Spike?' I say.  
  
'Yeah?' he snaps.  
  
'Um... When Buffy said I was welcome any time, did that mean...?'  
  
Spike nods, his expression still dark. 'Uh-huh. Free to come and go as you please, any time you like. Open invitation.'  
  
'Thanks.'  
  
'No problem.' Spike says. 'So, now that _that's_ sorted...'  
  
'Well, next up...' I think it over. 'Next up, we've got to find your butcher's, then pick up some new clothes and then the basics for Ziggy.'  
  
Spike _blinks_. 'Ziggy? What, we're building a supercomputer now?'  
  
'No.' I say. 'Ziggy the kitten.'  
  
'Ziggy the...' Spike groans. 'Oh bloody Hell, woman. _Ziggy?!_ Sounds like a complete pinhead!'  
  
'I know...' I say. 'But... it seems _right_, you know? Sam and Al and Ziggy?'  
  
'You know we're never gonna live this down if this gets out.' Spike grouches.  
  
'We're dead, Spike.'  
  
'You know what I mean.'  
  
'I guess I do.' I say, the smile twitching at my face. 'Come on. Let's get inside.'  
  
--- 


	5. Makeover

Spike:  
  
Tink hasn't moved an inch in over an hour.  
  
And. It's. Driving. Me. Up. The. Wall.  
  
Hasn't moved, hasn't spoken, hasn't done _buggery_!  
  
Just sitting on the slab, legs crossed, not moving.  
  
Now I get _why_ she's doing it - part of the meditation thing, keeping the demon in check - which's all well and good.  
  
But does she have to do it in the bloody crypt?  
  
Ain't a person to snoop on for God knows how far - definitely further than _I_ can go from her.  
  
Got so bored one time I actually counted how many paces it took before I stopped - 'bout fifty, I think it was.  
  
And when I say stop, that's what I mean. Just stop short, right there. Can't go another step 'less she moves. No mystical barrier, no tugging feeling pulling me back, no feeling of agonising pain if I go another step. I just... stop.  
  
Which's all well and good if you're hanging out in the middle of town, but quite frankly sucks rocks if you've set up shop in the middle of a cemetary.  
  
Sod all to snoop on, bar burials and raisings, and once you've seen one, that's pretty much it.  
  
Okay. How about TV? Somethin' to listen to while she's doing the whole 'om' thing?  
  
Apparently _not_. Apparently, she don't want anythin' distracting her.  
  
No telly. No-one to snoop on. No-one to talk to, with Tink incommunicado - and I'll be damned if she opens her eyes to see me talking to the kitten. Ain't sunk _that_ low just yet...  
  
And of _course_ the kitten's followin' me about, all curious 'bout what the funny see-through man's doin'...  
  
And it's-  
  
Tink shifts, settles a little.  
  
And could it be? Is she actually gonna open her eyes?  
  
_Yes!_  
  
Finally, Spike gets a break!  
  
Hey, it may not seem much to you, but _you_ try spendin' a couple a' months as a ghost and see how _you_ like it, 'kay?  
  
Thought so.  
  
'...We've got a visitor.' she says, soundin' almost... puzzled.  
  
'Heightened vampire senses strike again.' I tell her. 'Works wonders. Any idea who?'  
  
Tink shakes her head as she uncrosses her legs. 'Someone... someone familiar... ?' She trails off, looking sheepish. 'Well, it would be, wouldn't it? Who else would it be...?'  
  
'Someone you know, or the body knows?' I ask.  
  
'...Someone I know, I think.' she says.  
  
Which means Buffy, Anya, Clem, or Dawn.  
  
Anya'd probably just teleport in, and as for the Slayer... know her too well to expect she'll be hanging out 'round here any time soon, not 'less she has to. Likes her walls strong, she does.  
  
Which means Clem or Dawnie.  
  
Bets on it's Dawnie. Been 'xpecting her after last night's run-in.  
  
'Dawnie, most likely.' I say.  
  
She nods, not quite surprised, begins to say something.  
  
And then Dawnie pushes the door open.  
  
Score another one for old Spikey.  
  
'...Tara?' she says.  
  
'Still me.' Tink says. 'No Spike-moving-back-in-head just yet...'  
  
The Niblet almost - almost - smiles at that one.  
  
Then she catches sight of the kitten.  
  
'Oh my God...' she whispers. 'Oh my God... Tara, where did you-?'  
  
'...She got left behind after a game of kitten poker.' Tink says. 'And, well, I couldn't throw her out, so...'  
  
Niblet hunkers down near the kitten. 'Hey... hey, it's okay, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you...' She looks up at Tink. 'What's her name?'  
  
'Ziggy.' Tink says.  
  
Niblet frowns. 'What, like the pinhead?'  
  
'Sort of, but not quite.' Tink says. 'It was, um... after the computer in "Quantum Leap".'  
  
'...Right.' Niblet says, as she digests this.  
  
'Don't leave any crossbows near her.' Tink adds.  
  
Niblet huffs. 'Hey! That was only one-'  
  
She catches Tink's expression, the smile on her face, and can't help smiling in turn.  
  
And it's been a long, long time since I've seen that, seen the light of her smile.  
  
Oh, Niblet...  
  
Then, just as quickly, the smile's gone, faded, as she stands up.  
  
'...It is you, isn't it?' she says quietly. 'It is you.'  
  
Tink nods, looking down. 'Yes.'  
  
'...Why?' Niblet says quietly.  
  
'I don't know, Dawnie.' Tink says, honestly. 'If I knew, I'd tell you... but I don't think Spike meant this. I don't think he even knew... what had happened.'  
  
'Didn't stop him from screwing you over.' Niblet says. 'Couldn't even get a soul without doing that.'  
  
I twitch.  
  
'Do you think he would have, if he'd known?' Tink says softly. 'Do you think he'd have thought about it... and then done it anyway? Taken someone else's soul, rather than his own?'  
  
Niblet opens her mouth-  
  
-and then closes it again.  
  
Doesn't want to agree, doesn't _want_ to admit ol' Spikey might not have wanted to screw Tink over... but can't deny I wouldn't've settled for anything less than my own soul.  
  
And this is what I did to you, without even thinking, without even looking...  
  
How could I blind myself so? Are my promises so lightly broken? A heart so easily cast away?  
  
And I know, oh, how I know...  
  
'...What's it like?' she says, again quiet, as she sits down next to Tink. 'Being a vampire and everything?'  
  
'It's... it's _empty_, Dawnie.' Tink says, quieter still. 'Empty, and bottomless, and you're always _hungry_, always waiting for the only thing that can fill it, waiting for the blood...  
  
'I'm not alive. No matter how much it looks like it, I'm not alive. I don't breathe, my heart doesn't beat, no reflection... none of that. I can breathe, can eat and drink... but that's not the same.  
  
'Stronger? Faster? Maybe... but I was never all that physical when I was... was alive, so it doesn't do me all that much good now.' She tries a smile, fails. 'The "heightened senses" thing is good, though...'  
  
Niblet thinks about this. '...Sounds like a crappy deal to me.'  
  
'...Not everyone gets to choose, Dawnie.' Tink says.  
  
She realises what she's just said, falls silent.  
  
Niblet doesn't say anything, reaches out and rests her hand on Tink's.  
  
'...Spike didn't see it like that,' she says, after a while. 'With him, it was all "fists and fangs", blood and guts, fights and glory... he lived for that... making trouble, causing chaos, screwing things up... or he said he did...'  
  
...Yeah, I did. All about the blood, and the life, and the passion... about _living_ the passion, with everything you were, 'cause nothing else would do...  
  
'Lived to screw things up...' Her face twists. 'Should've listened, huh? Oh no, not Dawn, Dawn has to be all hero-worshipping and "he's so cool"...'  
  
You're not the only one who should've listened. Look at what I screwed up with you...  
  
'And why not?' Tink says softly. 'He was. He did everything he could to protect you, up on Glory's tower...'  
  
Niblet jerks back.  
  
'That's the thing...' Tink says, still in that same, soft voice. 'He fought for you, and he hurt you. Cared for you, and forgot you. Listened to you, and shut you out... all of that, that was him.  
  
'And you found out... you found out he'd hurt you, and you're angry at him, more than angry, and it's _justified_, because how can you forgive what happened? And it hurts all the more because you cared, and you thought he cared, and he _betrayed_ that... betrayed it for his obsession...  
  
'And it hurts most of all because you remember what you had before he hurt you... remember light and darkness both...'  
  
'...Oh my God...' Niblet whispers. 'Oh my God, Tara, I didn't know...'  
  
Tink blinks, looks at her. 'Didn't know?'  
  
'Willow.' Niblet says. 'What happened with Willow.'  
  
'You weren't just talking about me back there, wicca,' I murmur in her ear. 'Sounds like _that_ came from a lot closer to home...'  
  
Tink's eyes widen. 'I...'  
  
'I could leave if you need some time alone.' Niblet offers.  
  
Tink shakes her head "no". 'I'm... I'm sorry, Dawnie. I... I didn't realise... I'm sorry.'  
  
'Yeah.' Niblet says finally. 'Yeah, I know...'  
  
She falls quiet again.  
  
'Anything I can help with?' she says eventually.  
  
Tink takes a deep breath. 'Well... I need to go to Spike's butcher's, do something about the blood... then I need to pick up some new clothes, and the basics for Ziggy...'  
  
'Okay.' Niblet says, getting to her feet.  
  
Tink blinks at her.  
  
'Hello? Earth to Tara?' Niblet tries. 'I'm coming with?'  
  
'Oh.' Tink says, as Niblet's words sink in. '_Oh..._ Dawnie, are you sure- ?'  
  
''Course.' Niblet says. 'Come on, let's get going.'  
  
---  
  
Tara:  
  
This is... strange.  
  
Not strange in a, you know, "Scooby adventure" kind of way, but strange in a "general background Hellmouth-y weirdness" kind of way.  
  
I haven't really been thinking about what I'm wearing - not exactly my top priority, really, just making sure I wasn't running around half-naked.  
  
But now...  
  
...now, I'm looking at some clothes and it occurs to me it's like I'm playing some weird Hellmouth version of dress-up - how would you dress if you were Spike?  
  
And I haven't quite got my head 'round how to dress like a man - especially not Spike. Not yet. I know I _should_, but it still won't go.  
  
It's sort of like moving into a new house, but still half-thinking of it as your old one - you _know_ things are different, but they haven't quite sunk in yet, and that was a really clunky metaphor, I know...  
  
So I keep things simple: some boxers (I don't think I'm cut out for briefs just yet, especially with the weird feelings I got from Spike's genitals when I tried them on), a couple of blue shirts, a couple of plain T-shirts, some dark trousers - dark blue, dark green, black, a pair of boots... just basic stuff. Not Spike style or Tara style, but nothing that's going to get me (or Spike, I hope) too embarrassed.  
  
I round it off with a tan brown trenchcoat I noticed when I was browsing (and it still amazes me that people don't _notice_ I don't reflect in mirrors). Sort of my own personal touch, something that seems... well, kinda appropriate for the situation.  
  
Taken together, it makes me look kinda like a private eye, sort of that image you get when you think of those old noir movies, except without a hat.  
  
I momentarily consider one, but... I don't know, I just can't see Spike in a hat.  
  
Not that I _could_ see him - well, his body - in a hat right now, anyway...  
  
'Nice.' Spike drawls, when I show him the trenchcoat. 'Very Hellblazer.'  
  
I blink at him. 'Hellblazer?'  
  
Spike raises his eyes. 'Lemme guess. More a "Sandman" kind of girl, aren't you?'  
  
I blush a little. '...Well, yeah.'  
  
Then it hits me. 'Oh, _him_... Sorry, Spike, I'll just go put this back...'  
  
Spike waves it off. 'Hold on to it. You need a bit of style if you're gonna be walkin' round like that, and you could do worse than ol' Constantine...'  
  
'I don't know...' I begin.  
  
'Come on, woman,' Spike says. 'Think 'bout it. You know what makes you, me and ol' Johnny different from all those poseurs out there? We know about the shadows, 'bout the darkness, what it _really_ means. Why? 'Cause that's where we live. 'Cause we face off 'gainst the other things that live there, and we come through. 'Cause we face off 'gainst the monsters.  
  
'We ain't playing at this. This's the real deal, and we _know_ it.  
  
'Like I said, you could do worse.'  
  
I look down at the coat. '...Er...'  
  
Spike rolls his eyes. 'Just get the coat, will you?'  
  
---  
  
When I show Dawnie, she nods in approval. 'Looks good to me.'  
  
'Thank you.'  
  
We heft the bags and then we're off again.  
  
I take a sideways look at her as we head down the street..  
  
I don't... To be honest, I don't think I could've got this far without her. When I got to the slaughterhouse, I...  
  
...Just the _smell_, and I began to vamp out.  
  
I could smell it, I *wanted* it, wanted to drink and drink and drink... and Dawnie was there, and I just wanted to sink my teeth into her skin, _taste_ that blood, _her_ blood...  
  
...and oh God this is _Dawnie_ what am I thinking what am I thinking this is Dawnie she's like my little _sister_ and the blood smells so _sweet_ so tangy and this is _Dawnie_ and I can't do this and she's right _there_ and I could just take the blood and _no_, _no!_, this is Dawnie, this is _Dawn_, and I will not do this and this is _wrong_...  
  
...and I asked Dawn if she'd get the blood for me, the demon fighting forward all the while, right there, right _there_...  
  
...and she gave me a... a sympathetic look, I think, and went inside...  
  
'Hit bad that time.' Spike said quietly.  
  
I nodded. I couldn't trust myself to say anything.  
  
Oh God. Dawnie...  
  
'Never like that for me.' he said. 'I was tied up in the Watcher's bathtub most of the time, and by the time I got out I knew damn well what the chip would do if I tried...'  
  
I nodded again. 'Thought... Thought I might be able to handle it again... could keep it down till...'  
  
'Yeah.' Spike said. 'Yeah, I know. The demon don't agree, though. Hard keeping off something when you need it to survive.'  
  
'What... what happens if I _don't_ drink it?'  
  
Spike grimaced. 'Nothing good, pet. If you thought it was bad _now_, see what it's like after a month without it.'  
  
I shuddered.  
  
'God... Dawnie...'  
  
'Niblet was the nearest.' Spike said. 'Been anyone else, would've been _them_. Demon don't care. It just wants the blood.  
  
'Thank anyone who's listening you didn't crash into this soulless. If you had... I'm guessing Niblet and Red would've been first on your list...'  
  
I shuddered again. That was the last thing I needed to hear, especially now.  
  
I could taste the blood, feel the hunger rising inside, the _thirst_, to drink it all down, all of it, never stop...  
  
I closed my eyes, focused on a still space inside, a space apart from the hunger, not the hunger, tried to focus on it, felt the hunger raging within, wanting wanting *wanting*...  
  
...the stillness and the hunger...  
  
'Tara?' Dawnie's voice said.  
  
I nodded, not opening my eyes. 'In... In a moment, Dawnie... Is it... is it safe away...?'  
  
'Yeah.' Dawnie said. 'All neatly bagged up.'  
  
'Thank... thank you...'  
  
There... the blood is _there_... the blood is _there_...  
  
And, oh, I could still smell the blood, still taste Dawnie's blood and...  
  
...stillness stillness stillness....  
  
...and the hunger was still _there_, still _wanting_, still raging...  
  
And I opened my eyes.  
  
Dawnie was looking at me with concern. 'Are you okay?'  
  
I shook my head. 'Not... not yet. Could... could we just get away from here?'  
  
'...All right.' Dawnie said.  
  
And we... we did. We got away. Kept walking.  
  
And the hunger subsided again.  
  
If she... if she hadn't been there...  
  
If I'd lost control... if I'd lost control _when she was there_...  
  
God...  
  
And there's _no way out_. No way out of this.  
  
The hunger... the hunger, always with me, a part of me...  
  
...and blood, have to be near blood, can't live without it...  
  
...and I have to keep control, have to, otherwise people are going to die, people are going to die and I'm going to kill them...  
  
...and I _can't_... can't kill them... can't...  
  
And Spike's there, Spike's watching me, and I can't read his expression... don't know if he can read mine...  
  
'Hey...' he says quietly. 'Hey. No brooding, okay? No brooding. That's Deadboy's schtick, and I'll be screwed if it's ours.'  
  
I manage a smile, mouth 'I'll try' at him.  
  
'Yeah?' Spike says. 'We'll see.  
  
'We'll see.'  
  
---  
  
Spike:  
  
'Okay...' Niblet says. 'Do we need any peroxide?'  
  
Tink gives her the "huh?" look.  
  
'Your roots are showing.' Niblet explains.  
  
Tink's hand flies to her - my - hair. 'Roots-? Oh...'  
  
'No reflection's a bitch sometimes, isn't it?' Niblet says sympathetically. 'So... peroxide?'  
  
'I...' Tink says.  
  
She shoots me a pleading look.  
  
Trouble is, it's knocked me off my step too.  
  
Now, the thing is, I've been peroxiding my hair ever since the 70s. It's part of the whole Spike look, the whole "Big Bad" thing. Never missed out. Never given thought one to dumping it - this's the way I look, and if you can't handle it, tough. This ain't someone you mess with.  
  
'Cept... now it's Tink in my body, and she's not doin' the whole "Big Bad" thing. "Big Bad" and Tink do _not_ match up by _any_ stretch of the imagination, and she ain't gonna pull it off without digging my rep even further into the ground.  
  
Yeah, I've said it couldn't get any worse. Shows you just how much I know, huh?  
  
Now, the "Hellblazer" look could work either way, whether she uses peroxide or not, - that said, I know _I_ wouldn't mind her usin' it; be nice to have _some_ trace of the old Spike around, huh? - but...  
  
'No luck here, kid.' I tell her.  
  
'...I'll let it grow out.' Tink says finally.  
  
Niblet eyes her. 'You sure?'  
  
'Sure.'  
  
''Kay...' Niblet says. 'Now, the nail polish remover...'  
  
And it's interesting, watchin' them as they trot round the shop.  
  
Tink's... on edge, ill at ease; that last attack of bloodlust knocked her right off balance, and bein' near the girl you were thinkin' 'bout eating definitely ain't good for her either. Think this's why the "Hellblazer" look seems to fit right now. Focusing on the little things, getting them sorted out, out of the way, so she don't have to worry 'bout them.  
  
Niblet, on the other hand... she's concerned.  
  
Been like that ever since she showed up; probably what got her over to our place in the first place.  
  
She's concerned 'bout Tink, wants to make sure she's okay, doin' that "little sister fussing" thing she does. Did it for me, back when... when Buffy died, that time after. Doesn't even realise it, just does it 'cause she's worried, tryin' to help out.  
  
I know the kid - tellin' her _not_ to help is exactly the wrong thing to do.  
  
Fortunately, Tink doesn't do that.  
  
Trouble is, the Slayer pretty much _does_, leaves her out, doesn't want her involved, doesn't tell her what's going on.  
  
Like I said, builds her walls strong, even with her own family.  
  
But that ain't the way to handle Niblet. Never has been. Always has to do _something_ - like her big sister like that.  
  
Still not easy with this - hell, _we're_ not easy with this, why should anyone else be? You can see it, see the expression on her face when she expects to see Tink's body, hear Tink's voice, rather than mine, see when she remembers this's _my_ body, and what I did. Only a couple a' times, showing through the concern, but still there.  
  
Tink can see it too, bouncing off her own unease, but she's looking past it for the moment, trying not to chase her away, make sure she's safe - let her help, do what we came to do, get through this.  
  
Finally, we've picked up everything we came for, get over to the checkout, and then through.  
  
And much to my surprise, absolutely no-one - like, say, Harris - turns up to ruin things.  
  
Could it be things're actually beginning to look up?  
  
Nah.  
  
---  
  
Anyway, we get back to the crypt, and Niblet helps us unpack.  
  
The kitten sniffs around, trying to see what's in the bags. Niblet puts down the litter tray, she goes over and sniffs at it, then sticks up her nose and stalks off.  
  
Oh yeah, gonna be tough crypt-training her...  
  
Put away the clothes and the other little odds and ends until finally, all we're left with is the blood.  
  
Tink eyes it, but she ain't gonna risk it with Niblet around. Really doesn't want to go there.  
  
Apart from that, sorted the crypt out, got most everything we need, so that's _that_ pretty much sorted.  
  
So let's see, what's left...?  
  
We've got Tink's bloodlust, but that's pretty much an ongoing thing.  
  
Pretty much just waiting for Red to get back - 'course, knowing the Hellmouth, probably have one or two other things 'long the way just to make things interesting.  
  
And... I don't like it. It's all been too easy.  
  
'Give them what they deserve', Lurky said, and somehow I don't think we've got to that point just yet. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop...  
  
'Crypt sweet crypt,' Niblet observes.  
  
'Guess it is...' Tink says.  
  
Niblet plonks herself down on the slab. 'So what're you gonna do now?'  
  
'Well, I _could_ go back to UCS, but I don't think they take centenarian mature students, for some reason...' Tink says.  
  
'This _is_ Sunnydale.' Niblet notes.  
  
Tink half-smiles. 'True... I don't know, to be honest. I've got Ziggy to look after, maybe looking into why I came back, and then....' She takes a deep breath. 'Then it's... Willow.'  
  
'_Are_ you going to tell her you're back?' Niblet asks.  
  
Tink sighs. 'I... I pretty much have to, Dawn. Will _knows_ Spike, knows what he's like... I'm going to have to.'  
  
'And then what?' Niblet says.  
  
Tink shakes her head. 'I don't know, Dawnie. I don't know...'  
  
Niblet inclines her head.  
  
'What about you?' Tink says.  
  
'Oh, just about to start at the new fun-filled high school of doom.' Niblet says.  
  
'Yeah... remember my first day.' I say. 'Should'a got out when I had the chance.'  
  
Tink pauses. '...Um, when you say that, you mean it really _is_ a high school of doom, right? You're not being ironic, 'cause, you know, hard to tell sometimes 'round here...'  
  
'Yup.' Niblet nods. 'Actual high school of doom. Built over actual Hellmouth.'  
  
Tink and I double-take. '_WHAT?!_'  
  
'Built where the last high school used to be, before it got devastated by a giant snake.' Niblet explains.  
  
'What kind of idiot would build a high school on top of a Hellmouth?' I demand. '_Again?_'  
  
'...Why?' Tink says finally.  
  
'Got me.' Niblet shrugs. 'No diabolical demony plans turned up just yet...'  
  
Something clicks in my head. Something demon girl said earlier.  
  
'Oh sweet Jesus...' I mutter. '_Harris_. I should've known. Never thought he was _this_ much of an idiot... just when I think he can't get any stupider, he proves me wrong.'  
  
'So what you're saying is...' Tink says.  
  
Niblet nods. 'Lots of fun demony things coming outta the woodwork to kill the students.'  
  
'...Oh.' Tink says. 'So, um, not just the university then?'  
  
Niblet shakes her head. 'Uh-uh. High school's the place where it all happens.'  
  
'She's not messing.' I tell Tink. 'That place is _bad_.'  
  
'And you couldn't, I don't know, bunk off for the next three years?' Tink suggests.  
  
Niblet raises an eyebrow. 'Nope. Gotta sit this one through.'  
  
'Oh... wonderful.' I mutter.  
  
'So, um, taking your stakes?' Tink says.  
  
Niblet rolls her eyes. 'Jeez, you're beginning to sound like Buffy. Yep, ready as I'll ever be - which probably isn't ready enough, but hey.' She hops down off the slab. 'Told Buffy I was going over to a friend's. She'll be expecting me back soon.'  
  
'Um... good luck?' Tink offers.  
  
'Thanks.' Niblet says. 'I'll probably need it.'  
  
''Bye, Dawnie.' Tink says.  
  
Niblet hesitates a moment.  
  
''Bye, Tara.'  
  
And then the crypt door closes behind her.  
  
'...Yep,' I say finally. 'Looks like the other shoe finally dropped.'  
  
Tink shoots me a Look.  
  
--- 


	6. Cracks In The Foundation

[AN: Some of the dialogue is taken from S7 01 and 02, 'Lessons' and 'Beneath You']  
  
---  
  
Tara:  
  
'Will you just ease up a bit?' Spike says. 'Niblet's a big girl, she can take care of herself.'  
  
'I know, I know...' I say. 'It's just...' I manage a grin. 'Mama always said I fretted too much...'  
  
'Yeah?' Spike says. 'Listen, she's goin' to school on the Hellmouth - be surprised if you _weren't_ worried. Place tried to kill the Slayer more times than I can count, after all. But _we_ ain't exactly in a position to do somethin' 'bout it, not just yet - and it's not like we could watch out for her, not without turnin' into a pile of blazing ashes.'  
  
'...I know.' I say softly. 'But still...'  
  
'Yeah.' Spike says softly. 'Yeah. I know.'  
  
And I want to say: I wanted to _be_ there with Dawnie, I wanted to see her off, hug her before she went, I wanted to tell her she's not alone, that she's ready for this, and I can't...  
  
'Come on, Ziggy,' I tell the kitten, hunkering down. 'Come here, come to Mommy... _there's_ a good girl...'  
  
Ziggy pads over to me, and I take her in my arms, standing up.  
  
'There you go,' I tell her. 'There you go...'  
  
Which is right about when Anya teleports in.  
  
'Tara. Spike. You're here. Good.' she says.  
  
'And "hello" to you, too.' Spike mutters.  
  
'They know.' Anya says.  
  
I blink. 'Who knows?'  
  
'The Order,' Anya says, taking a seat on the slab. 'They think I've been going soft on people. "Anya's not hard enough", "Anya's not tough enough", "Anya's not delivering" - they've even started calling me Ms. Soft-Serve!'  
  
At that, I get a sudden flash of Anya working in an ice cream parlour, in a '50s waitress outfit, and just as quickly shut it away again.  
  
'Oh.' I say. 'Um... so are they going to do anything?'  
  
Anya snorts. 'Of course they are. I'm going to be getting a demonic pink slip and a gold watch for a thousand years of service.'  
  
'They actually do that?'  
  
'Of course not.' Anya says. 'I was being ironic. No, I got this from Halfie.' She waves her hand dismissively. 'She was telling me to buck up, get my vengeance on, get back into the groove - this is a bad time to be good, apparently.'  
  
'Safe there, then.' Spike observes.  
  
'Souled vampire.' Anya says. 'Souled vampire with Tara's soul. Do I need to go on?'  
  
'Why?' I ask. 'What's going on?'  
  
Anya _blinks_. 'You haven't felt it?'  
  
'Felt what?'  
  
'Something's rising.' Anya says. 'Something older than the old ones, the old demons, rising from below. Everyone's on edge - well, apart from you, apparently.'  
  
'What is it?' I ask. 'What's coming?'  
  
'I don't know.' Anya says. 'Just-'  
  
And-  
  
---  
  
something  
  
something in the earth  
  
oh god the earth has teeth  
  
teeth in the darkness  
  
from beneath you it devours  
  
---  
  
'TARA!' Spike yells.  
  
I stagger, nearly dropping Ziggy on the slab, trying to get a grip, trying for a hold.  
  
'...God...' I whisper. 'God... my god... what...'  
  
'What?' Spike demands. 'What /was/ that?'  
  
'Let her calm down, okay?' Anya snaps. 'Let her calm down, and _then_ she'll tell you.'  
  
I don't reply, still trying to pull myself together, trying to focus on the still point, Ziggy fussing and hissing in my arms.  
  
It takes a few minutes before I'm able to stand again.  
  
'What happened?' Spike says.  
  
'...The earth...' I whisper. 'The earth - I felt the earth, I saw it, I saw its teeth...'  
  
'Its _teeth?_' Spike demands.  
  
'...The Hellmouth.' Anya breathes.  
  
'...I... I don't know...' I manage to say. 'It's... it's going to open... it wants to feed...'  
  
'...Oh, bloody _brilliant!_' Spike snarls. 'That's _all_ we fucking need! Another sodding Apocalypse!'  
  
Anya shudders.  
  
'...The Hellmouth.' I whisper. 'Oh God, _Dawnie!_'  
  
Anya and Spike's heads snap round.  
  
Spike's eyes are wide. '...Niblet! Oh, bloody bleedin' hell! We're _idiots_, the both of us, we are such sodding *idiots*-'  
  
'What?!' Anya demands. 'What is it?'  
  
'The Hellmouth...' I say. 'The high school's built above the Hellmouth.  
  
'And Dawn's there.'  
  
'What kind of idiot would build a high school over the Hellmouth?' Anya demands.  
  
'The kind of idiot who left you at the altar.' Spike tells her.  
  
'...*Xander?*' Anya squawks. 'All right, that's it! He's gone too far this time! If he thinks he can just up and build a high school on the Hellmouth- '  
  
'...You don't have time.' I tell her. 'Get over to the high school, find out what just happened, what's going on, and see what you can do.'  
  
'...Are you out of your undead _mind_?' Anya snaps. 'If the Hellmouth's suddenly developed teeth, _I'm_ certainly not going anywhere near it.'  
  
'Please, Anya. If something's happened, we have to know, and we can't exactly check it out ourselves.'  
  
Finally, Anya nods. '...All right.'  
  
And dematerialises.  
  
'...Wonderful.' Spike mutters. 'The minute we get back into town, *bang*, imminent Apocalypse. And you just _know_ we're gonna end up being a big part of it, 'cause the way we are, you know it's gotta be for /something/ big.'  
  
I shudder at the thought.  
  
I felt the earth, the darkness within...  
  
...and I felt its teeth, waiting, waiting for the chance to open, to devour us...  
  
It's big, I want to tell him. It's bigger than you can imagine, big enough to swallow us all without even blinking.  
  
And I don't know if we're going to survive it.  
  
---  
  
It's not more than half an hour before Anya returns.  
  
'You were right.' she says without preamble. 'Someone planted a talisman to call up manifest spirits. Fortunately, it's been disposed of.'  
  
Spike's expression darkens. 'Warning shot. Gotta be. Letting us know Big Bad's out there.'  
  
'Did... did everyone get out okay?'  
  
Anya nods. 'Yes. Perhaps a few extra bumps and bruises, but if you're living on a Hellmouth, that's getting away easily.'  
  
I let out a sigh of relief.  
  
'Know who planted it?' Spike asks.  
  
Anya shakes her head. 'No. However, Dawn's managed to make friends with two deviant students, and Buffy's been hired as school counsellor.'  
  
I *blink*.  
  
Spike chuckles grimly. 'Platelet always did have somethin' for the bad boys. As for the Slayer - what'd they hire her for? Her sparkling personality and people skills? 'Cause she's right good at _those_, let me tell you...'  
  
Anya shrugs. 'The Principal said the children needed someone close to their age. Which Buffy... kinda fits, I guess.'  
  
'And of course having a Slayer on staff never hurts...' Spike observes.  
  
'That's what Buffy said.' Anya says. 'I don't think that's what the Principal had in mind, though.'  
  
'Yeah?' Spike says. 'We'll see.  
  
'So what about you?'  
  
'What about me?' Anya says.  
  
'Well, looks to me like the Slayer's not the only one looking for somethin' different in her life.' Spike says. 'Face it, love, your heart's not in the vengeance business anymore - been spending too much time 'round us, am I right? No-one gettin' hurt, no-one gettin' killed... you're just not up for it any more. Only doing it 'cause no-one's giving you a better option.'  
  
'And I suppose you can?' Anya inquires.  
  
Spike shrugs. 'Ain't my place to say, love. But the way you're goin'... wouldn't be surprised if D'Hoffryn called you to his office pretty sharpish. If _I_ were you, I'd start by smashing my soul-gem...'  
  
'Wouldn't work.' Anya says. 'D'Hoffryn overhauled the system before I came back - the power of the Wish is in _us_ now, not in a soul-gem.'  
  
This time, it's Spike's turn to blink. 'No soul-gem? You serious?'  
  
'Yes.' Anya says.  
  
''Kay...' Spike frowns. 'Any way you _can_ get shot of the gig?'  
  
'Not that I know of.' Anya says.  
  
Spike whistles. 'Nasty. Made it a lifetime gig, huh?'  
  
Anya suddenly seems very, very tired. 'Yes. Yes, it is.'  
  
She lifts her head, like something's caught her attention. 'I have to go. We'll talk later.'  
  
With that, she dematerialises again.  
  
'...Can we help her?' I ask Spike.  
  
'Got me there, love.' Spike says. 'D'Hoffryn's tightened things up - made it more difficult for demon-girl to leave. Don't mean there's no loophole - usually is - but it's gonna be harder to find.'  
  
'What if we wished her out?'  
  
Spike shakes his head. 'Need to be all vengeancy first. Won't work without it. And you and me - not exactly near there right now, get what I'm saying?'  
  
'But there should be another way, right?' I say.  
  
'Oh yeah.' Spike says. 'But like she said, overhaul came in recent - don't think anyone's got the chance to get it down on paper yet.'  
  
'...No, they wouldn't.' I murmur. 'What about the Big Bad?'  
  
'That?' Spike says. 'Warning shot. Little somethin' so we know it's out there.'  
  
'But...' I hesitate a minute. 'I felt... it was too *big* for that, it felt too big...'  
  
'Guessin' that was _our_ warnin' shot, love.' Spike says. 'Slayer gets the manifest spirits - _we_ get to feel its bad self up close and personal.'  
  
I shudder again.  
  
'Any idea what it was?' Spike asks.  
  
I shake my head. 'No. No. I didn't get even that. Just... teeth, in the darkness, in the earth.  
  
'Waiting.'  
  
'No use askin' what for, huh?'  
  
I shake my head again.  
  
Spike sighs. 'Guess we're gonna find out.'  
  
This time, the shudder comes without even thinking.  
  
---  
  
Spike:  
  
Should've expected this.  
  
Should really, _really_ have expected this.  
  
Harris's standing in our doorway.  
  
Joy. Looks like the Slayer finally got round to telling him, then. Nice to see she still keeps her friends in the loop.  
  
He don't look too happy 'bout it either.  
  
'Nice.' he says, lookin' round the crypt. 'Cleaned it up pretty good. Lucky there wasn't any major structural damage...'  
  
'...Thank you.' Tink says.  
  
'Buffy told me I'd find you here.' he says finally.  
  
'She told you who I am.' Tink says quietly. 'Or who I say I am.'  
  
'...Yeah.' Harris says. 'Yeah, she did.'  
  
'I can't tell you any different.' Tink says. 'Whether or not you think I'm Tara, I _believe_ I am... and I won't tell you different.'  
  
Harris... lets out a little sigh. 'Okay. Okay. You're Tara.'  
  
'And even if I _am_ insane Spike, I still have the chip in my head.' Tink says. 'Insane Spike _can't_ hurt you, Tara _won't_ hurt you.'  
  
'...Yeah, about that.' Harris says finally.  
  
'That Spike hurt Buffy.' Tink says. 'I... worked it out.'  
  
'Not hurt her. Tried to rape her.' Harris says flatly.  
  
Tink... doesn't look at me. 'I... Buffy told me Spike could hurt her, she told me that. From what she said this time... I, I guessed that's what had happened.' She lets out a little sigh. 'If I'm Tara... then I wasn't responsible for that. But if I'm insane Spike... then I _was_, I was sane when I did it, I was responsible.'  
  
'We both were.' I say quietly. 'He won't wanna hear that, though.'  
  
'Either way... I can't put it right.' Tink says softly. 'I can't say "sorry", anything like that... what could I say that would make up for it? What could I do, whether it was my responsibility or not?'  
  
'You could stay away from Buffy.' Harris says.  
  
'Like there's a chance of that.' I mutter.  
  
'But what would stop her coming to me?' Tink says quietly. 'What would stop that? If I'm insane Spike, then... I might hurt her. Could hurt her. You don't know how far the insanity goes.  
  
'And if I'm Tara... I could _still_ hurt her.'  
  
'What?!' Harris gawks.  
  
'Bloodlust, Xander.' Tink says. 'I've got the blood hunger. I _want_ blood... and I haven't tasted human blood. The chip would stop me if I attacked a human... but Buffy?' She sighs again. 'But _she_ could take _me_, now, if it was necessary. As Tara... I don't have anything near Buffy's skill, even in Spike's body. She could dust me.  
  
'As for insane Spike... I don't know. If I _am_ insane Spike, I don't know how much of Spike's fighting skill I retain. I'd _like_ to think she could dust me, but...' She looks down. 'You _know_ Buffy. She always gives the vampire a fight.  
  
'But if someone else thought I was a danger, thought I was a risk... well, they know where I live, know I sleep during the day... it wouldn't be that hard.'  
  
'No, it wouldn't.' Harris says distantly.  
  
'...Then why did _you_ never try it?' I mutter. 'Could it be... oh, 'cause I'd've kicked your ass?'  
  
'But you never did.' Tink says quietly. 'No-one did. Perhaps because there was always something else to focus on, to think about, because Spike never made himself enough of an issue to be staked.  
  
'But now I'm here... and Spike _did_ do something to justify a staking.  
  
'He did lots of things. Killed and slaughtered I don't know how many. That's not something that can _ever_ be set right.  
  
'But it hits all too close when someone you _know_ gets hurt...'  
  
I flinch. So close, oh so close... aims for the pain without even trying.  
  
'...I told her,' Harris mutters. 'I _told_ her, but would she listen? No. Knew him too _well_... Bastard always made himself useful, always had _something_ he could play with... should've done it long ago...'  
  
'You could stake me.' Tink says softly. 'If I'm insane Spike... it'd be putting me out of my misery. And if I'm Tara... it'd be releasing me to go on.  
  
'I'm afraid, Xander. Afraid of dying again. Of suffering the pain of death once again - even though I know what's waiting beyond that.  
  
'I can't walk into the sunlight. I can't end it like that. I need someone to do it for me.'  
  
Don't, I want to say. Don't do this. To me, to you, to us... don't. Please.  
  
Harris shakes his head. 'No. No. You died on _my_ watch. On my watch. Didn't even know till Will walked into the hospital... maybe should've known, should've, but... he'd just shot Buffy, wasn't thinking 'bout anything else...'  
  
He looks up into Tink's eyes. 'I can't kill you, not again. Not twice.'  
  
'You may have to.' Tink says.  
  
Harris shakes his head. 'Don't. Don't. I've lost too many people. Too many...'  
  
Stupid, Harris, stupid. That's gonna cost you... gonna cost us, and God knows how many...  
  
'And if I _am_ Spike?' Tink asks. 'What then?'  
  
'You're not.' Harris says.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Spike'd never ask me to kill him. Not sincerely.' Harris says. 'He'd never go over the detail, never lay it out like this - not with me.'  
  
'Got that right.' I say.  
  
He sighs again. 'Maybe I'm doing the wrong thing. Wouldn't be the first time.  
  
'But I can't kill you.'  
  
Tink nods, doesn't say anything.  
  
Harris sighs. 'I just... It shouldn't have been like this, y'know? Not like this. Spike's... God knows where, and you're stuck in his body.' He shakes his head. 'I just hope, wherever the bastard is, he's suffering like Hell.'  
  
'You have no sodding idea.' I tell him, giving him a great big "fuck you". 'Moron.'  
  
Tink shoots me one of her *looks*.  
  
---  
  
Yeah. Anyway.  
  
The next clue's something's comin' down the pike comes 'bout a week later.  
  
Tink's curled up with a book Dawnie brought for her, while I'm stuck with having the kitten stalking after me - apparently she's decided catching Mr See-Through is her new goal in life.  
  
Then she stops and starts hissing.  
  
Tink's head snaps up.  
  
She frowns, her brow furrowing.  
  
I move closer.  
  
And I can hear it now: something rumbling, heading our way.  
  
'What...?' I mouth.  
  
Tink shakes her head - she doesn't know.  
  
The rumbling gets louder.  
  
The kitten skitters over to Tink.  
  
Louder, and the crypt's beginning to shake now.  
  
Tink's eyes widen. She grabs the kitten and the book and races outside, while I zip ahead of her.  
  
I turn to look back, only to see Tink's stood stock-still.  
  
I follow her gaze...  
  
...and see somethin' absolutely frickin' _huge_ burrowing through the ground, tearing up the earth as it goes.  
  
As we watch, it comes up against a tombstone and smashes its way straight through, leaving broken stone in its wake.  
  
Then there's this hideous gurgling _roar_, and whatever it is plunges back down under the earth.  
  
'Buffy?' I say.  
  
Tink nods. 'Buffy.'  
  
---  
  
As we come up on the Slayer's house, Slayer, Harris and Niblet are sat in the front room, talkin' to some strange woman.  
  
We get closer, and I can hear the Slayer talking 'bout... a dog?  
  
'...We're going to get into this. And if your dog's alive, we'll find him, I promise. The only thing we need...'  
  
'...is maybe some help?' Tink offers, stepping through the French windows.  
  
Strange woman's lookin' at the kitten.  
  
Everyone _else_ is lookin' at Tink.  
  
'Um... hi, guys.' she tries.  
  
And it suddenly occurs to me that while Tink and me know it's her, and while the Slayer's little gang know it's her, talking 'bout it to anyone _else_ is... well, utterly insane.  
  
The Slayer recovers first. 'Spike.'  
  
'...Who is that?' the woman asks.  
  
'He's, um...' Dawnie fumbles.  
  
'He's... a friend.' Harris sticks in.  
  
'And somehow I'm getting the feeling it's a little more complicated than that.' woman says.  
  
'Always is.' Harris says.  
  
Tink gives him a sympathetic look.  
  
'What's, um... What's the problem?' the Slayer says.  
  
'...I don't know.' Tink says. 'Um... is it okay if I...?' She indicates the woman.  
  
'...Yeah.' the Slayer says. 'Oh, hey, Nancy, Spike, Spike, Nancy.'  
  
'Um... hi.' Tink offers.  
  
'Hi.' Nancy says. 'Get caught on the hop?' She indicates the kitten and book in Tink's arms.  
  
Tink blushes a little. 'Kind of. Big, rumbly, burrowing its way through solid ground like it wasn't there?'  
  
'Sounds like our monster.' Harris says.  
  
'Did you get a look at it?' the Slayer asks.  
  
Tink shakes her head. 'Uh-uh. Just grabbed what I could and rushed over here.'  
  
'...Alright.' the Slayer decides. 'We're gonna split. Two pairs. Whatever this creature is, it's burrowing through solid ground. That means a kind of strength and power we don't usually deal with. But we may have to get used to that, now the Hellmouth's getting all perky.'  
  
Nancy pulls Harris aside. I wander over to have a listen.  
  
'Shouldn't we call the police?'  
  
'And tell them what?' Harris says.  
  
'...I'll stop interrupting.'  
  
Looks like I've exhausted the Harris-y fun there, so I wander back over to Tink.  
  
'Hey. Just got an idea. This worm-thing - it took her dog, yeah?'  
  
Tink nods.  
  
'That means it could've been lured. Scent. Rhythm of motion...'  
  
Tink nods again, and offers up this nugget of information.  
  
'What was its name?' she finishes.  
  
'Rocky.'  
  
'This's Ziggy.' Tink says, showing her the kitten.  
  
'Aw...' Nancy says, looking in the kitten's eyes. 'He looks like a real sweetheart...'  
  
'She.' Tink corrects.  
  
'I wanted to get a cat, but...' Nancy shrugs.  
  
Slayer decides to jump in. 'Xander. Take Nancy home. Drive, don't walk, and try not to stop 'til you get there.'  
  
'Gotcha.' Harris says.  
  
'Is your girlfriend always this... commanding?' Nancy says.  
  
'Who - Buffy?' Harris stammers. 'Oh, she's not ... I mean, she's a girl, and a friend, but she's not my ...'  
  
Oh yeah, this is fun. I'd swear he's even drooling a little.  
  
'Xander?' Niblet says.  
  
He looks at her, and she indicates the side of his mouth.  
  
'Little drool?' she says.  
  
Harris hurriedly dabs at his mouth.  
  
'Spike and I'll check out the site of the attack.' Slayer goes on.  
  
Tink's eyes widen.  
  
'O-kay...' Harris says, taking the Slayer aside for a moment.  
  
I listen in, naturally.  
  
'Are you sure 'bout this, Buffy? This's Tara, and Tara... not good with the aggression, you know?' Harris glances over at Tink.  
  
'She's also a witch.' the Slayer says. 'If this's gonna need magic, we'll need her. We don't have anyone else, Xander.'  
  
Harris hesitates a moment, then lets it drop.  
  
'Let's patrol.' the Slayer says. 'Xander's taking Nancy home.'  
  
'I'm command central.' Niblet says. 'Everybody checks in with me.' She pauses. 'Okay, I'll be here doing homework, but still, the other thing sounds cooler.'  
  
'Let's head out.' the Slayer says.  
  
Tink nods, and we set off.  
  
---  
  
Finally, as we walk down a street, the Slayer breaks the silence.  
  
'So, um, you been settling in okay?'  
  
Tink nods. 'Yes.'  
  
'Um, I wasn't sure if you wanted your stuff back, but um, well, your family didn't want them, and we couldn't, y'know, destroy them, so...'  
  
'It's okay, Buffy.' Tink reassures her. 'Thank you.'  
  
'Although we _did_ have to give the clothes to charity...'  
  
'Oh, that's no trouble. That's where I got them from in the first place.'  
  
The Slayer's eyes go wide.  
  
'Come on, Buffy.' Tink says, the grin catching at her face. 'You can't tell me you'd never thought it.'  
  
I chuckle. She's enjoying this just as much as I am.  
  
'You're taking this incredibly well.' the Slayer says. 'Now if it'd been _me_, I'd've gone completely vegetable.'  
  
'Oh, don't let my calm facade fool you.' Tink deadpans. 'Beneath this, I'm a roiling mass of pain, grief, fear, anger, and self-loathing.'  
  
'Nice to see you can still make with the funny.'  
  
'Funny? Who said I was being funny?'  
  
The Slayer opens her mouth, then closes it again.  
  
'Looks like this's the place,' she says instead, her flashlight playing over a stretch of pavement that looks like it's been blown apart from _below_.  
  
'What gave it away?' I wonder.  
  
The Slayer aims her flashlight down into the hole.  
  
'I wouldn't want to stick my head down that.' Tink observes. 'Could you hold the light a little closer?'  
  
The Slayer does so, all the while watching Tink.  
  
'No joy there, love.' I tell her. 'You're not gonna see the old Spike in her. Just the face and the form - and that was never the whole Spike deal.  
  
'Can't say sorry, can't say forgive me... all I can say is, me and Tink? We'll help. Whatever's coming... we'll help.' I step a little closer to her. 'We'll stand with you.'  
  
Not least because it looks like it's locked in on _all_ of us, I don't say.  
  
'Nothing.' Tink's muffled voice comes as she pulls her head away from the hole. 'A lot of dirt, a lot of earth, and a good amount of slime - but no beastie.'  
  
The Slayer sighs. 'Better get back to the house, then. I am _so_ not looking forward to this.'  
  
'You're not the only one.' Tink says.  
  
---  
  
Nancy and Harris show up soon after we get back, both of them looking like they did the hundred metres through a demon-infested minefield.  
  
'...Let me guess.' the Slayer says. 'You met our monster.'  
  
'Yeah.' Harris says, lowering his voice so Nancy can't hear. 'And you know the extra-special fun bit? Nancy made a wish a couple of days back. An actual, honest-to-God feeling vengeancy wish. Something about her abusive jerk boyfriend being a worm.'  
  
The Slayer's face does that interesting frozen look it does so well.  
  
'Anya.'  
  
'Maybe not.' Harris says. 'Still... if there's a chance...'  
  
'All right.' the Slayer says. 'Nancy? I think we've got another lead.'  
  
And almost before you can blink, we're off again.  
  
---  
  
'...Let me talk to her.' Tink says as we enter the Bronze. 'See if we can, um, sort this out quietly.'  
  
'...All right.' the Slayer says. 'We'll be over here if you need us.'  
  
Tink nods, and heads over to where demon girl's sitting, huddled morosely over a cocktail.  
  
Oh yeah. I've seen this before and it's not good.  
  
'Anya?'  
  
Demon girl doesn't bother looking up. 'Hello, Tara.'  
  
'Um... I wanted to ask about something.'  
  
'Go on.'  
  
'Did you, um, maybe grant a wish about, um, turning somebody into a worm?'  
  
There's a long pause.  
  
'Yes.' demon girl says finally.  
  
'A worm demon?'  
  
'A Sluggoth Demon.' I supply. 'Very large, very nasty, natural predators who died out 'round the Crusades.'  
  
'It wasn't cheating.' demon girl says, voice flat. 'They're the same phylum, after all.'  
  
'Why?' Tink says quietly.  
  
'I had a quota.' demon girl says, in that same flat tone. 'He had it coming.'  
  
'Can you reverse it?'  
  
'Yes.' demon girl says. 'I can.  
  
'But then there's afterwards. I'm in enough trouble as it is. Halfrek's all over my case, D'Hoffryn is not pleased with my work and you don't want to see him unhappy, trust me...'  
  
'...You _wanted_ this.' Tink whispers. 'You wanted a wish you'd have to reverse. You're hoping to ask D'Hoffryn to set you free.'  
  
Demon girl doesn't answer, and that says it all.  
  
'Why didn't you ask him?' Tink says, soft.  
  
'And say what? "Oh, I'm not happy with being a vengeance demon, could you please make me human again"? Yeah, like _that's_ going to go down well with D'Hoffryn.' Demon girl shakes her head. 'I had to do it this way.'  
  
'...You could have asked us.' Tink says. 'We would have backed you up.'  
  
'Oh, well, that makes it _all_ okay, doesn't it?'  
  
'Anya.' Tink says. 'Please. Reverse the wish. Whatever the consequences are, we'll back you up.'  
  
'...You will?' demon girl says.  
  
'Yes.' Tink says. 'We will.'  
  
'Yeah.' I say.  
  
'...Very well.' demon girl says.  
  
That's when it hits me.  
  
'Hey. Is worm-boy still underground?'  
  
Tink's eyes widen. 'Anya-!'  
  
'...All right, all right, I'll wait till he breaks surface.' demon girl mutters. 'Satisfied?'  
  
'Thank you.' Tink says.  
  
'You're welcome.' demon girl says. 'Now go away.'  
  
---  
  
'So that's it then?' I say, as we make our way home. 'All sorted, all done and dusted?'  
  
'Mm.' Tink says.  
  
And it's true, it _is_ all done and dusted. Worm-boy's back to human (and packed off to hospital), demon girl's slipped away while no-one was looking, and Slayer managed to look simultaneously satisfied (that she didn't have to fight anyone) and disappointed (that she didn't have to fight anyone).  
  
But in sorting this out, it looks like we got D'Hoffryn on our case - and he ain't gonna be happy.  
  
'Too much to hope _this_ was "from beneath you it devours", huh.' I say. 'Not like a vengeance demon's wish is gonna count...'  
  
'Mm.' Tink says. 'No. No, I don't think it did... Anya said it was old, older than the old ones, something that had everyone on edge...'  
  
'Yeah.' I say. 'And that's never good.'  
  
'No. It's not.' Tink says.  
  
I catch the little tremble - that little tremor - in her voice.  
  
Scared. Bad scared.  
  
'Don't let it get to you, love.' I say. 'Take it as it comes, okay? No good to anyone fretting like this.'  
  
'I know.' she says softly. 'I know. But...'  
  
'Shh, love.' I say. 'Shh. Worrying's fine, but this fretting ain't doing anyone any good, not you, not me, not demon girl.  
  
'Don't let it get to you, okay?'  
  
'...All right.' she says. 'All right.'  
  
But she's not convinced, I can hear it.  
  
I'm gonna have to work on that.  
  
--- 


End file.
